Mutually Beneficial
by Sweet Christabel
Summary: Facing an arranged marriage that she legally can't refuse, Sabé enacts a desperate plan to get out of it, asking Obi-Wan Kenobi to marry her instead. Little does she know that it's not just an unwanted fiancé she's avoiding, but a threat to her life as well. With her friends' complicated love lives to deal with too, it would be a very bad time to develop feelings for her husband.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Wars. This is probably a good thing, I'm terribly disorganised.

 **A/N:** Hello friends, it is I! I wasn't sure I would write for this pairing ever again, but before I took my much-needed break from fandom, I had twenty-odd chapters of a new story written. It seems a waste to not post them and finish it, so here we go on another Sobiwan journey. This started out as my take on the popular marriage law prompt that's been floating around multiple fandoms for many years, but it evolved into something much bigger. I'll be posting the first three chapters over three days to get things moving, then hopefully uploading every two weeks or so. This story takes a little while to get going, so please be patient with me.

This is first and foremost a Sobiwan story, but I also wanted to take the opportunity to explore a more volatile, slightly more unstable Anakin, and to play with the 'what-if' of Padmé having lingering feelings for someone else. If you are a hardcore Anidala shipper and you can't bear the thought of them having problems, this story is not for you. You have been warned! I just loved the thought of Palpatine being even more manipulative and trying to poke holes in their marriage to get at Anakin.

* * *

 **Chapter One – Prologue.**

 _The future…_

 _"Listen carefully now. I have something important to say. When you're older there will be people who will tell you that the Jedi were not to be trusted, that they were warmongers, that Emperor Palpatine saved the galaxy from their greed and control. They will tell you that Darth Vader and his Inquisitors hunted them down for the good of all of us. But they're wrong. There is a truth behind all of this that they want us to deny and forget: that the Jedi were guardians, peacekeepers, who fought out of necessity in an attempt to save lives and preserve freedom." Sabé paused in her narration, finding it harder to relay than she'd thought. Her one-person audience stared at her in open expectation, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Your father wants me to tell you this, because he knows that you can keep the secret. He knows that it's important for you to hear the truth, because one day it could save your life."_

 _The six-year-old princess blinked her wide, dark eyes, her expression solemn and rapt. She was too young to accept the weight of truth and lies, but Sabé had no doubt that she would keep it hidden. She was mature for her age. Too mature. Sabé worried that she was growing up too fast, accepting burdens too early._

 _"How could it save my life?" Leia asked. "A Jedi couldn't help me if they're all dead."_

 _"There...there is still one," Sabé told her, speaking aloud what she'd sworn never to reveal, the words sticking in her throat. It felt like disloyalty. She forced herself to say the rest, because she knew how important it was, how important the girl in front of her was. "There is someone you can go to if all other hope has gone. He'll help you if he can."_

 _"A Jedi?" Leia whispered, her tone reverent._

 _Sabé nodded. "He fought in the Clone Wars, trying to protect the Republic your father believed in. When the betrayal happened he barely escaped with his life. After everything he gave to the galaxy..." She left the sentence unfinished, unable to find the words. "He saved lives, over and over."_

 _"How do you know that?" Leia asked, a serious little frown creasing her brow._

 _Sabé resisted a gentle smile at the earnest expression. "Because he also saved mine, more than once. He was a great warrior, yet a wise and skilful negotiator. He's...my definition of a good man."_

 _Leia's face was an open book, awestruck and fascinated at the picture Sabé was weaving. She had planned it that way. She needed the story to stay with the princess long after it was told._

 _"He is...the best man I've ever known," she added, unable to fully keep the touch of sadness from her tone._

 _"Who is he?" Leia asked her with undisguised interest._

 _Sabé couldn't hold back the tiny smile that his name invoked, filled with memories of everything that made him who he was: a man she would love forever._

 _"Obi-Wan Kenobi."_

* * *

 _Present day._

As the first difficult year of the Clone Wars drifted to a close, the Republic reluctantly began to accept the fact that it would not be won easily. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was able to give more and more aid to the war efforts by means of increasing his so-called emergency powers, each time giving his solemn promise to give them up when the fighting was over. Some senators approved of his actions, while others remained wary. But all of them could see the way things were heading in the Senate. Palpatine was more powerful than any chancellor before him. Those who wished to further their political careers clustered around him, hoping to gain his favour. Most attempts were clumsy and unsubtle, traits that Palpatine did not seem to appreciate. Those who had even the slightest chance of success were more shrewd with their approaches.

One such successful man was Quaine Daedrin of Axum. Senator Daedrin was not the kind of fawning, sycophantic politician that the Chancellor so detested. He got himself noticed by other means, namely his steady, understated support of Palpatine's policies, and his diplomatic skills during Senate meetings. His gentle, almost-friendly manner cloaked the manipulation beneath it as he persuaded senators to see his point of view. Palpatine was both impressed by and wary of such a skill, which placed Daedrin comfortably in his sight. Then, when he had been sure that the Chancellor had noticed him, he had very publicly exposed a Separatist spy in Palpatine's office, earning the man's respect and amusing him in the process, for the wily Chancellor knew exactly why Daedrin had done it. Palpatine was amused enough to draw Daedrin into an informal, unofficial group known as the inner circle, and there he remained, much to the envy and admiration of many other senators.

But there were some who saw Daedrin's rise as an opportunity of their own. Two such people were Jago and Luma Simmonite of Senator Padmé Amidala's political team, her personal liaisons on Naboo. They heard Daedrin's story with wry amusement and immediately saw a chance to arrange a marriage for their daughter, Syrena. Such a marriage for their only unmarried child would be a huge step towards the Chancellor's inner circle, and in a way subtle enough to avoid suspicion.

Syrena, who was more commonly known as Sabé, royal handmaiden and member of the Order of Sanctuary, was twenty-seven and, in her parents' objective opinion, had much to offer an astute, up-and-coming senator. She was intelligent and loyal, quick-witted and headstrong, slender with fine cheekbones, full lips and large, expressive dark eyes. Her hair fell in tousled brunette waves down her back, and she often wore it tied up for convenience. Luma often thought it looked untidy, but she supposed it gave her daughter an element of wild charm.

Sabé had not followed the political path of her parents, but served as an aide to Queen Neeyutnee. Her status as a handmaiden was another element that worked in her favour. It was a highly cultivated and skilled position, held by many women of noble birth. It had given Sabé formal court training and etiquette, as well as her name, which marked her status in the Order of Sanctuary. Daedrin was bound to be impressed. Or so Jago and Luma hoped. Their plans were coming together.

The only thing that remained was to inform the bride.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a short one to start things off. More tomorrow :)


	2. Any Means Necessary

**A/N:** Thanks to those of you who have followed and favourited. Before we get to our handmaiden, I thought I'd take this opportunity to see what the antagonists are up to. This is the first time I've ever written from Palpatine's perspective. Senator Quaine Daedrin belongs to me. It was kind of fun to let Palpatine play with him like a chew toy.

* * *

 **Chapter Two - Any Means Necessary.**

Darth Sidious, the Sith Lord the galaxy knew as Chancellor Palpatine, liked the view from the panoramic window in his office. It seemed an obvious statement to make, but Sith Lords didn't usually bother themselves with _liking_ trivial things. It was a waste of time and energy, ultimately resulting in nothing useful. But regardless, he liked his view. He liked seeing the sprawl of the senatorial district below, the stretch of Coruscant's skyscrapers, the mile upon mile of buildings, people, _life_. He liked knowing that they danced to his tune. The Republic was his, and he never got tired of reminding himself of that. Perhaps it was a little petty to gloat, but he deserved it. It hadn't been an easy journey, and it was far from over.

Anakin Skywalker was far stronger than he had initially realised. The conflicted young Jedi hadn't given in to the darkness within him, despite the many opportunities Sidious had put in his way. Ultimately, it didn't matter. He would turn eventually. Sidious had seen it. It was just taking longer than he'd anticipated. That in itself wasn't a bad thing. Anakin's poorly-repressed anger was still growing, still gnawing at his thoughts, and his dreams continually showed him his fears. Sidious had made sure of that. To his delight, the HoloNet press had given Anakin the nickname The Hero With No Fear, and he enjoyed watching the Jedi Knight try his hardest to live up to it. The extra pressure, combined with the dreams Sidious regularly sent him, meant that finally, at long last, cracks were beginning to show. Anakin was on the path to the Dark Side, hurtling along it with a certainty that only Sidious could see, his mind full of dread and fury, his heart full of nothing but good intentions. It was really very sad. If Sidious had been the sympathetic type, that was.

While he was happy to wait for Anakin's inevitable downfall, (he was a patient man, after all), it did have one or two irritating side effects. He had had visions of the Republic becoming his Empire after the Clone Wars were over, but for that he needed Anakin. Tyranus was too weak to stand at his side when he was an emperor. Only Anakin could do that, _deserved_ that, and the two of them would inspire fear and obedience throughout the galaxy.

The Clone Wars would only end when Anakin became his apprentice. Only then could he create his Empire. Since, for the moment, the Jedi refused to give in to his dark instincts, the war had to go on a little longer, and therein lay the minor problems. War was expensive and delicate, and in order to ensure that it progressed in the way he intended, he needed to keep his dictatorial authority. There were an ever-growing number of senators who were displeased with the drain on the Republic's finances, as well as the way he'd kept his emergency powers and continued to increase them. Because he was still living most of his time as shrewd-yet-harmless Chancellor Palpatine, he had to deal with the naysayers as any politician might: legally and with sound argument. On the surface, at least.

He'd used a sympathy vote to get elected as chancellor, drawing on reactions to woeful reports of the Trade Federation's invasion of his homeworld, as well as Padmé Amidala's heartfelt plea for help. The senators rose up in angry droves, voting him in to satisfy their feelings of righteousness. It had been laughably easy. There was no reason why a similar trick shouldn't quiet those who were beginning to turn against him. It wouldn't have to be on nearly the same scale, of course. Just a gentle reminder that he needed his power to restore justice to the people. Padmé would no doubt be just as much a help as she had been the first time. Her passion for doing the right thing seemed to be inspiring to others, and she was never more sincere than when something affected Naboo.

Unsure as to which specific path to take, Sidious asked the Force to provide an answer. Two days later Quaine Daedrin exposed the spy in his office, earning his attention. Sidious had known about the spy, of course, but he knew that it would seem odd if the Separatists didn't try to infiltrate the Senate. And besides, the spy had been a useful way of passing information.

While Sidious had known about it, the persona of Palpatine hadn't, and he'd reacted with the appropriate amount of shock, disappointment and gratitude. It was blindingly obvious that Daedrin's ultimate goal was his approval, but the man's unusually devious plan seemed out of place in a senator of his diplomatic calibre. Sidious found it interesting, wondering if Daedrin could be useful, and readily accepted him into his inner circle of other potentially useful people.

Just over a week later, Daedrin requested an appointment to discuss a matter pertaining to Naboo. Ever mindful of the plan he was hoping to craft, Sidious agreed to the meeting. In preparation, he consulted his sources, digging for information about the charismatic senator from Axum. What he learned pleased him, and augmented his belief that the man could be of use. With the right incentive, of course. Fortunately, with his new knowledge, Sidious had that incentive at his fingertips.

Daedrin was a practiced manipulator, clearly knowing enough to present a likeable, trustworthy front to the public without going over the top. Sidious saw his affable persona, listening to him spout pleasantries with an impressive amount of sincerity, but to a Sith he reeked of duplicity. Ambition was obviously one of his driving traits. Daedrin displayed the most deceit and cunning he'd seen from a senator in a long time.

Sitting in his chair, wearing one of Palpatine's open, pleasant expressions, he waited, hoping that Daedrin was punctual. The senator knew better than to keep the Chancellor waiting, turning up at the office a few minutes early.

Sidious offered him a chair after greetings had been exchanged, and the senator took his seat, his posture confident, paired with the right amount of deference. He was good, very good. He knew exactly what he was doing. Lesser men than Sidious would probably be fooled into thinking he was genuine.

"So, Senator Daedrin," Sidious began, his voice a welcoming invitation to share concerns, "what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to pick your brains, Chancellor," Daedrin said, leaning back in his chair, his data pad resting on his lap. "I've received a letter that I'm not sure what to make of. Are you familiar with Jago and Luma Simmonite?"

Padmé Amidala's Theed correspondents. Hardly worth his notice, but he made it his business to know everyone in politics.

"I believe we have met once or twice," he answered, resting his clasped hands on the desk in front of him. "What of it?"

Daedrin's carefully-neutral expression shifted slightly, betraying a touch of awkwardness. "They've written to introduce themselves, and they've offered their daughter's hand in marriage. They say that arranging marriages is legal on Naboo."

Sidious raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. That wasn't the course he'd been expecting the conversation to take. "Yes, it is. Although the law that allows it is hundreds of years old. Most people don't acknowledge it, but legally it still stands. It is unusual for parents to involve a groom from offworld though. Did they give any reason why they have chosen you?"

"Only the expected praise and admiration for my political skills," Daedrin said, his tone a careful balance between boastful and matter-of-fact. "I've been so fortunate as to come under your notice, Chancellor, it's only natural that that attracts attention."

"Oh, I agree," Sidious told him truthfully. "Their daughter is acquainted with Senator Amidala, is she not?"

Daedrin nodded. "Yes, she is a royal handmaiden, and has been for some years, I understand."

Sidious studied the younger man. He looked…almost intrigued. That was interesting. Momentarily putting it aside, he turned his focus back to the girl.

"She must be the decoy who tricked Viceroy Gunray," he mused. Not a difficult achievement, by any means. The viceroy was a fool.

"I have heard that story also."

The first strands of understanding were beginning to form, and he realised the Force was pointing him in the right direction. He followed his thoughts to their natural conclusion, confident that answers would become apparent very soon.

"If that is so, that would make her a member of the Order of Sanctuary," he said, resisting a smile. That was it, the leverage he needed to draw on the sympathies of the people.

"I'm not familiar with them," Daedrin put in, and Sidious felt a flash of irritation at his interruption and even his very presence in his office. Explaining things to ignorant people was so tedious.

"The Order was not always as well known as they are now," Sidious informed him, sitting back more comfortably in his chair, keeping his face placid and accommodating. "They are an elite group of female warriors, exclusive to Naboo. Highly trained, highly dedicated, they make it their job to protect people of import. Most of the Queen's handmaidens are Order members, as are some of Senator Amidala's, I understand. They represent the highest class of security on Naboo, and were once something of a legend. Now, I would describe them as...an iconic group."

Daedrin looked suitably engrossed, and it appeared to be authentic. "Kind of like a lesser version of the Jedi then?"

"Oh, not nearly in the same league, my boy," Sidious said with a genial chuckle. "And without quite so many restrictive rules."

He watched Daedrin process the information, saw him pick up on his slightly negative opinion of the Jedi. He was quick, Sidious had to give him that. There was more comprehension in his strangely mismatched eyes than the Sith Lord had initially been expecting. That was promising. He was intelligent _and_ ambitious: two things that Sidious liked useful people to be. It saved an awful lot of hassle in the long run.

Changing the subject, he said, "I'm going to ask you something, Senator Daedrin, and I want you to answer truthfully."

Daedrin looked suddenly wary, clearly unsure if it was a trick question. Sidious didn't blame him.

"Of course, sir."

Adopting a conversational tone, he fixed Daedrin with a steady look. "I hear that you have risen very high, very fast through the political ranks on Axum, and I can't help but wonder: does a man like you accomplish that with diplomacy alone? Or does he use any means necessary to get what he wants?" He ended his sentence with a thin-lipped smile of encouragement.

Daedrin took a moment to compose his answer. For the first time, he seemed uncomfortable. "I, uh, I'm not quite sure what you're implying, Chancellor, but-"

"I'm not implying anything," Sidious cut in, still polite, still pleasant. "I am simply _asking_. And I would like the truth." He let a steely edge seep into his voice, the faintest hint of a warning.

"Yes," Daedrin said at once. "Yes, of course. I..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I have been known to take...unorthodox measures...when others have failed. But only ever in a good cause."

"Naturally," Sidious commented sardonically.

Daedrin frowned, still uncertain about what was happening and why he was being asked to explain himself. His confusion was written all over his face.

"Let me guess," Sidious went on. "Your unorthodox measures include...blackmail? Framing?"

The younger man's expression told him everything he needed to know about how accurate he was. And there was a spark of dread there too. There was something he really didn't want known, more than anything else.

Sidious plucked the word from the air, lips twisting up in another little smile. "Murder?"

Daedrin's already-pale face turned a shade paler. "It...it was self-defence, sir. I had no choice. I regret it utterly and completely, but..."

"No, Senator, you don't. What you regret is that I know about it."

Daedrin seemed uncharacteristically speechless, hurriedly searching for the right thing to say.

"It was Darnell, was it not?" Sidious asked casually, calling the name to mind. He'd read about the diplomat's untimely demise, even before he'd sought information about Daedrin. "The authorities declared that it was an unfortunate accident. But very advantageous for you. It paved the way to your position as senator."

"You don't understand, Chancellor, Darnell was corrupt to the core. He was taking bribes from the Separatists."

"Oh, I know." Holding back a laugh at Daedrin's incredulous expression, he elaborated. "There is very little that I do not know about the members of the Senate, especially the corrupt ones. You did well to deal with the problem, although your methods were a little extreme."

"I didn't mean for that to happen," the senator insisted, and there was an element of truth in his manner. "When I challenged him about his actions, he pulled a vibroblade on me. I had no choice."

Sidious fixed him with a penetrating stare, enjoying the look of intimidation on his face. "While I believe that he surprised you, I find it difficult to reconcile how a fight in self-defence turned into a murder that was conveniently written off as an accident."

Daedrin dropped his gaze to his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, laced with a trace of defeat. He apparently assumed that he was beaten, exposed as a fraud, and had decided to drop the front of innocence. "It _was_ an accident. He lunged at me with the blade. I dodged, and we wrestled for control of the knife. I saw an opportunity to pitch him over the balcony, so I took it. The vibroblade flew out of his hand as he fell. The authorities never found it. I left his apartment and altered the security feed. No one ever even suspected that I'd been there. Darnell liked a drink. Most people assume that he was drunk when he fell."

Pleased to have heard the story in the man's own words, Sidious nodded. "I see. That has cleared the matter up considerably. Thank you, Senator."

"I suppose I'm to be arrested now?" Daedrin asked, fearful but still harbouring a hint of confident defiance.

Sidious smiled at him, watching the confusion dance across the senator's face. "Not at all. Your secret is safe with me."

"Then why..."

"I expect honesty from my associates, Senator Daedrin. Especially those I am only just getting to know. It benefits me to be aware of what skills you have to offer. I never know when I might need to make use of them. Now, Senator, answer me this: do you believe in our cause and the war we're fighting?"

Allowing himself to relax slightly, Daedrin cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. If he was bemused about the direction of the conversation, he kept it to himself. "Yes, of course. The Republic has to protect itself."

"And would you agree that we must win, whatever the cost?"

After a brief, loaded pause, the senator nodded once. He seemed to comprehend that a great deal rode on his reply. "Yes," he said simply.

Sidious met his gaze, adopting a slightly more nonchalant tone. "Good. If we're to see victory, I must continue to use the powers the Senate gave me to progress the war in the right direction. Unfortunately, there are a growing number of senators who still believe that I should surrender those powers. That is something I cannot do, Senator, not in good conscience, not while the Republic still needs my leadership. I swore I would give up the emergency powers when the war ends, and I intend to honour that. _After_ I see us victorious. I don't think that makes me unreasonable, do you?"

"Not at all, Chancellor," Daedrin answered sincerely. "I think it's commendable that you intend to see it through."

Sidious was glad that the senator was not being overly deferential, but then he'd always been smart enough to avoid that sort of behaviour. If there was one thing the Chancellor couldn't stand, it was sycophantic politicians.

He rose to his feet, walking the short distance to the window. He looked out across the criss-crossing lines of traffic, creeping along in orderly rows, contained there by nothing more than a strict airway code. People were always so eager to do what they were told.

"How do you intend to keep your emergency powers?" Daedrin spoke up.

"There is only a small chance that the disputers will gather enough support to make a winning argument," Sidious admitted, turning to glance at him, "but I would rather not take that chance."

"What do you need me to do?" Daedrin asked, looking up at him with a grim, sincere gaze, a touch of resigned inevitability in his voice.

So he understood his position. That was sensible of him. Sidious squared his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back, and studied the traffic once more. Time to drop the final bombshell.

"I understand that what happened with Darnell was an accident...of sorts. But I also know what you were before you were a senator, how you raised funds for your campaigns."

"No," Daedrin murmured. Sidious could see his shocked expression reflected in the window. "That's...impossible, nobody knew...nobody could connect that name with the one I've made for myself since."

"It wasn't as difficult to connect the pieces as you seem to think, Senator. Trust me, a good freelance assassin can be surprisingly hard to find, so when one disappears without a trace...one must look to who comes to prominence at the same time. It was very simple. Either you killed him, or you _were_ him. And I think we both know which." Shooting a barbed smile over his shoulder, he added, "Don't look so panicked, Senator Daedrin. I wish to hire you."

"Hire me," the senator repeated faintly. Gathering his composure, he added, "Off the record, I assume."

Sidious didn't dignify that with an answer.

"Would that be in exchange for not exposing me to the authorities?"

"Partially," Sidious told him with a nod. "But you will be paid for your services too. I have no wish to expose your crimes. Despite your past, you are a gifted diplomat and a credit to Axum. If you deal with this small, unpleasant business of mine, you will be a credit to the Republic too, not to mention a help to the war effort."

Pivoting away from the window, he studied Daedrin's bewildered countenance, and inwardly sighed. It was almost too easy to manipulate these people.

"I...accept," the senator said at length. "What do you need?"

"The Order of Sanctuary," Sidious proclaimed, earning a wide-eyed stare of confusion from Daedrin. "Their reputation is becoming more widely known across the Republic, people know that they are among the finest bodyguards in the galaxy. Above all else, they are a shining example of what Naboo can offer. If, one by one, they started... _dying_..." He let the word hang, teasing out the silence. "It could be construed as a direct attack on my homeworld."

Daedrin visibly struggled for control over his astonishment, eventually taming it as he got used to the idea. "And that would generate enough sympathy that people would cut back on their criticism," he stated.

"I believe so, yes."

"But... Forgive me, Chancellor, but...you're really willing to kill innocent women, security officers, no less?"

"There's a bigger picture here, Senator Daedrin," Sidious reminded him callously. "It's my job to make difficult choices for the benefit of the Republic."

Daedrin did not look convinced, but apparently decided that questioning him was an unwise path to walk. No doubt the threat of the truth about his past was also at play.

Sidious took his seat again, pressing his fingertips together, peering over the top of them with a steely-eyed look. "Come now, Senator, I doubt you're really that shocked. After all, it's just another job for you, isn't it? And I assure you, I will not forget your service."

Daedrin glanced at his hands briefly, taking a moment to consider. "I think...," he began, seemingly searching for the right words, "that none of us are in a position to question your decisions, Chancellor." He was not fawning, simply declaring that in the future he would choose not to ask for details. The less he knew, the better. "I will gladly follow any orders you give me…in my… _other_ professional capacity. And I'll be grateful for whatever support you can offer in my political career."

Sidious smiled one of his humourless, cold smiles. "Very wisely spoken," he said mockingly.

It was always a gamble, exposing Palpatine's unsympathetic, darker side, but in this case it was necessary. Daedrin was nothing more than a means to an end, a tool to get a job done. And if he got himself caught, it didn't matter, because he was something else too: expendable. He wouldn't talk, not while Sidious had the threat of his past hanging over him.

"The means are up to you, of course," the Sith Lord told him. "If you choose to work with an accomplice, that's your prerogative, but keep the information you share with them to a bare minimum. And be prepared to travel. There are several Order members guarding dignitaries here on Coruscant, but most will be on Naboo, with several further afield. This could very well be a long-term assignment, as the Order members will be harder to find once they realise what is happening to their colleagues."

"I understand, sir," Daedrin said submissively. "Perhaps it might be wise to leave a gap of several weeks between hits? If that wouldn't interfere with your plans. I wouldn't want to bring suspicion on myself by moving too swiftly."

Sidious considered the request, weighing up the pros and cons. He could certainly work with an ongoing threat. It could even turn out to be more effective, keeping the matter in the public eye for longer, refreshing people's memories with every HoloNet report. A rapid hit on the Order would be over too quickly.

"Whatever you think best," he replied, all cordiality and benevolence once more. "Ensure that you make an impact to begin with, though. Take out three or four over, say, a month. Then you can slow down. I will not insult your intelligence by asking if you can handle alibis."

"I usually come up with something."

"In a few months, I will arrange for you to be noticed by the HoloNet crews for exposing another spy, or something similar." He waved it off dismissively: he would smooth out the details later. "As before, I will be indebted to you. Then, by the time your lovely new wife is found dead, the public can share your distress, and it will seem a personal insult to me."

Daedrin seemed vaguely startled, as if he'd forgotten why he'd even come. "I, uh, I wasn't even sure whether…if I would accept the proposal. Do...do you think I should?"

Sidious glanced at him thoughtfully. It wouldn't make a huge amount of difference either way, aside from perhaps lessening any suspicion about Daedrin's involvement.

"I leave it in your hands," he told him graciously. "There will be benefits if you do accept, but the choice is yours. After all, you are the one who would have to live with her for a time."

Daedrin raised a single eyebrow at the word 'benefits', no doubt thinking of more gratifying things than a potential cover for his assassinations. Sidious inwardly sneered. Ordinary men were so undisciplined, so simple, so blinded by their own selfish desires. It made them much easier to manipulate, but he couldn't help looking at them with disdain. A Sith learned to ignore unimportant needs, to treat them with the nonchalance they deserved and focus on the bigger picture.

He watched the thoughts zipping through Daedrin's head, content to wait patiently until the man had made his decision. Being a chancellor in wartime meant there were many demands on his time, but he exercised patience nonetheless.

"I will write back to the Simmonites," Daedrin announced at length, "and tell them that I'm interested. I remember their daughter, actually. I saw her once when I met with the Queen."

Ah, so that explained the touch of fascination Sidious had seen in the younger man. The girl was probably pretty.

"I can't deny that it will be a lot less effort than a regular marriage," he went on. "And it will, as you say, have its benefits."

Sidious nodded in agreement. "Good. That's everything settled then."

Picking up on the air of dismissal, Daedrin got to his feet, almost losing his data pad as it slid off his lap. He fumbled for it clumsily. Sidious watched with amusement, knowing that the man's disintegrated composure was entirely down to him. He'd walked into the office with confidence, exuding charisma and respect. He was apprehensive now, and a little awestruck. Sidious had a way of inspiring those traits in people.

"I will let you get to your writing," he said, pasting on one of Palpatine's more pleasant smirks.

Daedrin sketched a stylish bow, clawing back a small amount of his dignity as he did so. "Thank you, Chancellor. Good day."

Sidious let him get within a few feet of the door, then called, "And Senator..."

Daedrin turned, eyebrows raised in question, eyes darting about nervously. "Yes, sir?"

"Do not breathe a word of what we have discussed."

From the anxious way he nodded, Sidious knew that Daedrin had heard the threatening undertones in his voice. There was no need to scare him any more. Today.

Daedrin turned on one heel, and departed the office as quickly as etiquette allowed him. Sidious chuckled briefly to himself, rotating his chair so that he faced the window. He knew the senator was capable of tracking down the Order members without his help. Once he began researching, he'd know what to look for. The plan should work, all being well, and if it didn't, it was no great loss. He'd think of something else. Daedrin's skills were useful, but he was ultimately replaceable. _Everyone_ was replaceable. Except perhaps...Anakin.

Sidious didn't like admitting it. Accepting that he needed Anakin seemed like a weakness, but it didn't alter the truth. The volatile young man was a unique case, only scratching the surface of his potential. He'd be a legendary Sith, in time. Time was something that Sidious hoped he'd just bought himself. His grand plans could wait. In the meantime, he had a Senate to control.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next chapter, Sabé receives the news of her engagement. She's not going to be happy.


	3. Undesirable Pact

**A/N:** I own Sabé's family... That sounds weird.

* * *

 **Chapter Three – Undesirable Pact.**

Blissfully unaware of her parents' intentions for her regarding marriage, Sabé was enjoying her day off, happy to let someone else have the responsibility of managing the Queen's handmaidens for a short rotation. Securely holed up in her pleasant suite of rooms at the palace, she basked in the sunlight that streamed through her window as she sat at her desk. Her head bent gracefully over the letter she was composing on her data pad, several spiralling strands of hair forming web-like patterns on the surface of the desk.

 _Dear Obi-Wan,_ the letter began.

 _I hope all is well with you and that you are continuing to survive this war uninjured. I will freely admit now that I have nothing of interest to say this time, and am simply writing this letter so as to not lose contact with you. I expect an enlightening and exciting reply, however._

 _Naboo is flourishing at the moment. The flowers in the palace gardens are just beginning to bloom. It's beautiful. It's a pity that that Blue Shadow incident was the cause of your last visit here. At least we managed to grab that cup of caf after it had all died down. It's not often that we get the chance to meet in person, is it? I am glad that we've continued sending these letters over the years._

The beeping of her comlink interrupted her next sentence, and she reached for it with a grumble, half expecting a summons from Captain Panaka for some crisis or other.

"This is Sabé," she answered warily, childishly screwing up her eyes in anticipation of losing her free day.

"Only me," came her mother's voice.

Sabé let out a sigh and slumped in her chair. Not the duty she was expecting, but duty nonetheless.

"Your father and I would like to talk to you," her mother continued, barrelling into the conversation in her usual straightforward fashion. Luma Simmonite was a woman who seemed to harbour the belief that greetings and pleasantries were social rules that only applied to other people. "Are you free to come over? You mentioned that you'd be off today."

"Now?" Sabé asked jadedly.

"If possible. It's important."

"What's this about?"

"I'd rather not say over the com channel. Just come over."

"Fine," Sabé said through gritted teeth. "I'll be right there."

Irritated by the intrusion to her quiet writing, she signed off and typed rapidly on the data pad.

 _Well I'm being summoned by my parents for some reason. I'll write again when I have more to say. In the meantime it's your turn!_

 _Your good friend,_

 _Sabé._

She hurriedly sent the letter, then went in search of shoes. Although she hadn't had particular plans for her day, she was annoyed to have it disrupted. She loved her parents, but sometimes wished they lived in a different city. Theed was altogether too small, made all the smaller by the fact that her parents often met with Queen Neeyutnee on political business. There really was no escaping them if Sabé wanted to keep her job.

Locating her shoes from where they'd been kicked under the bed, she slipped them on, and hastened from the palace, squinting a little as she stepped out into the sunshine. The warmth embraced her, providing balance for the cool breeze that tugged at her hair. It was perfect weather for being outside without a cloak. Spring flowers were beginning to bloom in the planters that lined the promenades, giving the air a faint sweetness that she'd missed during the winter months. Not for the first time, she reflected that Theed was one of the most beautiful cities in the galaxy.

Jago and Luma lived in a luxury apartment not far from the palace, so it did not take Sabé long to walk there, despite the streets being busy with tourists and market-goers. She expertly weaved her way through them, arriving on her parents' doorstep almost exactly ten minutes after leaving the palace.

She was welcomed in by their serving droid and shown through to her father's spacious office. Both Jago and Luma were present there, and they both looked up with a smile as she entered. Jago sat behind the desk, his hazel eyes warmer than his smile. Sabé had never known him to display affection too openly. He was a politician through and through, rarely betraying too much of himself to those around him. It had served him well in his career, but had made him rather distant as a father. He was a man with presence, tall, handsome, well-dressed, his slight belly one of many signs that he lived well. His hair, once as dark as Sabé's own, was streaked with grey but, like many men, the look suited him.

Luma stood at her husband's side, her hands linked as she toyed with her wedding ring. She had her own office, of course, but seemed as comfortable in Jago's as she was in her own domain. Her greying honey-blonde hair was secured in its usual elaborate bun, and her dress was smart and formal, in a style reminiscent of some of Padmé's plainer gowns. Her make-up was flawless, suitable for her age. As usual, she looked far more put-together than Sabé felt, something that happened often and always struck her as being the wrong way round.

"Syrena," her mother greeted, "thank you for coming so promptly."

Sabé was so used to her parents' stubborn usage of her birth name that she didn't even bother correcting them any more.

"You gave me little choice," she said, her tone not nearly as suspicious as she felt it should be. "What's all the fuss?"

Jago sat forward in his seat, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "We have some news for you. Do you want to sit down?"

Sabé took the chair opposite the desk, smoothing her skirts as she sat. "How bad is this news?" she said in an attempt at light-heartedness.

"Dearest, it's not bad news at all," Luma pacified. "It's a wonderful opportunity."

At that, Sabé's alarm bells started ringing. She had always got on well with her parents in a civil if not exactly affectionate sense, so she knew to be wary when Luma began addressing her as 'dearest'. She knew her mother loved her, in her own way, but she had never been the maternal type, and so the endearment sounded horribly false.

"What sort of opportunity?" Sabé asked, narrowing her eyes.

"You've heard of Quaine Daedrin, of course," Jago stated.

"The senator? Yes. Why?"

"He's a new favourite of Chancellor Palpatine's since he uncovered that spy. Apparently he's right up there in the inner circle."

Sabé nodded, wondering where the conversation was heading. She was aware that it was her parents' ultimate goal to be included in the inner circle.

Just as she was thinking over the fact, Jago repeated it aloud, running a hand through his hair in a way that seemed uncharacteristically tense. Automatically, Sabé felt herself tense up too, her taut muscles making her sit stiffly in her seat.

"We think that Senator Daedrin may be our way in," Luma told her, her gaze faintly calculating as she thought about it.

"How?" Sabé asked, curious in spite of herself.

"Through his wife."

"But he's not married, is he?"

"No, not yet." Luma looked pointedly at her daughter. Her careworn-yet-striking features were unusually placid, revealing barely a trace of her inner thoughts.

Sabé's eyes widened and her jaw fell open in surprise. Holding up a hand, she snapped, "Oh no, no way."

"Syrena, be reasonable," Jago put in, the simple three words sending her back to her childhood. How many times had she heard them, heard the subtle warning behind them?

"Reasonable?" Sabé squeaked, her voice shrill in her panic. "You're trying to marry me to a man I've never properly met and you're telling _me_ to be reasonable?"

Jago heaved a sigh that spoke volumes, namely that his daughter was reacting exactly as predicted. "Apart from the other benefits, you would be in a perfect position to help us."

"To help you with what exactly?" she asked scathingly, gesturing for emphasis. "Your ambitions? I've never shared them, why are you involving me?"

"Many people are growing wary of the Chancellor's rise in power. You would be in a good position to find out if he's corrupt, and if he isn't...well, it's no small thing to be married to one of his closest associates."

"Do _you_ think he's corrupt?"

Jago shrugged. "Who knows? But you'd be in a useful situation either way."

Sabé bit her tongue against another snapped retort. She had no desire to be _useful_.

"You've been of a marriageable age for some years now," said Luma, her dark eyes, so like Sabé's own, fixing her with a stern stare. "We are well within our rights to arrange a suitable match for you."

Sabé grimaced, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. She knew they were right, taking advantage of an ancient law passed when Naboo had suffered a severe drop in the population following an outbreak of disease. The law stated that if a girl had not married by the time she was sixteen it could fall to her parents to arrange. Not all parents chose to do so. Most were unaware that the law still held.

She stared down at her hands, watching her knuckles turn ivory, trying to be calm, trying to think her way out of it. Her head was spinning, bombarding her with thoughts and opinions, too many, too fast for her to get a grip of. She needed to stop the panic, and quickly, before she let it rule her actions.

"Look," said Jago, trying and failing to sound understanding, "if it doesn't work out you can always get the marriage annulled."

"On what grounds?" Sabé asked breathlessly, trying to exert some semblance of control.

"Non-consummation," Luma offered casually.

Sabé stared at her, incredulous. "Mother, the man is thirty-three years old, there's no way I'd get away with non-consummation!"

"Women know all sorts of little tricks to avoid that, darling."

Sabé hastily held up a hand. "I do _not_ want to have this conversation with you, especially in front of my father."

Irritatingly patient, her mother argued, "It would only be until the war ends…"

"That could be years!"

"You shouldn't be so negative about this so quickly," Luma tried again. "You did say that he was good-looking."

"Objectively," Sabé snapped. "It doesn't suggest that I wish to spend the rest of my life with him."

"He's a wealthy man," Jago pointed out. "You'd want for nothing."

"I don't..." she began, trailing off with a little huff of exasperation. "He may not be interested anyway," she added, changing direction.

"Oh, he's interested," Luma said excitedly, a keen glint lighting her eyes, a sign of ambitions within reach.

Sabé glanced at her sharply. "What?"

"We contacted him about you, and he remembered you from that time the Queen visited the Senate and met with him."

Sabé thought back to that incident. To her it was insignificant, hardly worth the remembering. Queen Neeyutnee had been speaking with a group of senators, one of which happened to be Quaine Daedrin. None of the dignitaries had even so much as glanced in her direction until the Queen had asked her for a data pad. She had stepped forward to pass it over, then returned to her place. She had glanced up just once, and had met Daedrin's piercing stare. A little shocked that one of the senators should still be looking at her, she had swiftly dropped her gaze and had kept it lowered for the duration of the meeting. The following day they had returned to Naboo, and the encounter had all but faded from her mind.

"I don't understand why," she murmured. "We never even spoke, it was...just nothing. It was nothing!"

Luma shook her head. "Syrena, you are a very beautiful young woman. I don't like the thought of you wasting your youth in service to the Queen."

A chill travelled the length of Sabé's spine. She hadn't considered that she would be giving up her career too. It was unfair. It was _wrong_. A flare of anger ignited as she considered what they were asking her to do. No, not asking. They hadn't done her the courtesy of asking. She stared at the cerulean carpet, trying to draw some measure of calm from the peaceful colour. She would find a way out of her parents' proposition, no matter what it took. It was unacceptable that she should be forced to give up her lifestyle, her job, her home, to give herself to a virtual stranger. To begin with, she would have to pretend to agree to it, to give herself room to escape and work out the rest. She needed a proper plan.

Lifting her chin, keeping her tone level, she asked, "What exactly do I get out of this? Just out of interest."

Her parents exchanged a glance. She detected the beginnings of triumph in their expressions, buried under a heap of wariness that she knew they were wise to feel.

"Senator Daedrin isn't one of the most eligible bachelors in the Senate for no reason, Syrena," her mother began. "He's rich, so he could provide for you easily. You'd be far safer with him than you are working as a bodyguard. I've heard that his hobbies include music and visiting the theatre, so that shows a pleasing amount of sensitivity, don't you think?"

"I guess," Sabé mumbled, finding the reasons too vague for comfort.

"Plus there'd be your position, as we said, married to someone so influential and astute," Jago added. "And if it turns out that Chancellor Palpatine is corrupt, well, then it's your duty to help us expose him."

The duty card. It hadn't taken them long to play that one. Sabé took her duty at the palace very seriously, and had a reputation for her unwavering loyalty. But that was duty to her monarch, to her planet. It meant something. It was so vastly different to the apparent 'duty' they were suggesting.

She'd heard enough. She gave a great sigh, drawing out a thoughtful pause. "I suppose," she conceded, lacing the appropriate reluctance through her tone. Pasting an expression of regret on her face she added, "Look, I'm sorry I reacted strongly to this, but it just came from nowhere. I didn't even know you were considering marriage. Surely you can understand that it'll take some getting used to."

Jago nodded. "Of course. Perhaps we should have involved you earlier."

"I need time to think about this. I'd like to go home for an hour and speak to Padmé. She knows Senator Daedrin better than I do. Then I'll return and we can talk again."

Her parents exchanged another look. They knew as well as she did that she didn't have a choice in the matter. The entire conversation had been nothing but a formality.

"Humour me," she said. "Please."

Jago sat back in his seat, his stern countenance already telling her what his answer would be. "If you need some time, by all means use the lounge or the garden. But we'd like to get this matter settled before you leave."

Knowing that it would be unwise to push them, Sabé nodded. "I see. I'll do that then."

Rising from her chair, she gave them both a nod before heading out into the garden. The fresh, warm air calmed her, but she felt no more in control than she had in the study. Tears of anger and disappointment cut paths down her cheeks, and she dashed them away crossly. She was finding it difficult to see her parents' point of view. Whichever way she considered it, it seemed a vastly selfish move on their part. In her opinion, parents were supposed to make sacrifices for their children, not the other way around. She admitted that in their own way, they probably thought they knew what was best for her. Or at least, that was what they were telling themselves. For her part, Sabé was struggling to comprehend how her parents could possibly think it was all right to organise her entire life for her just because a vastly outdated law allowed it.

Making her way to the very end of the garden, she hid herself behind the ornamental shrubs. There was a single stone bench there, facing the fish pond, and she sat down on it heavily, propping her chin on her hand. She watched the fish swim endless circuits, with nothing more to worry about than which direction to drift next. Wondering what that must be like, she brooded about the difficulty she found herself in. She wasn't going to marry Daedrin. She was determined on that point. She just didn't know how to avoid it. Yet.

Her thoughts turned to Padmé, one of her oldest friends, and Sabé wondered what she would do given the same situation. Digging in the pocket of her dress, she smiled to herself as she located her holo projector, thanking the gods that she'd picked it up before she'd left her room. There was only one way to find out what Padmé would advise, and that was to simply ask her.

Punching in her friend's frequency, she waited only a few moments before Padmé's tiny, fuzzy blue image materialised above the disc, her hand outstretched as she held her own holo projector.

"Sabé!" she began, smiling. "You know I love hearing from you but the Senate session is due to resume in five minutes. Can it wait?"

"No!" Sabé burst out. "It can't wait, but I'll be quick."

Padmé immediately sobered. "What is it?"

"What do you know of Quaine Daedrin of Axum?"

"Not a lot," the senator said with a shrug. "He's a skilled diplomat, but some of his ideas are a little extreme. Why?"

"My parents want me to marry him," Sabé told her, managing to keep her voice surprisingly level. "They just told me about it now, it's already agreed."

Padmé's shock was evident even over the holo. "Oh…that's…wow, that's so fast."

Sabé nodded her agreement, shifting on the bench. "What do I do? How can I get out of it?"

"I…don't know. I'm sorry, Sabé, I…have no idea." Her friend shrugged again, helplessly.

"If I run away there's always a chance that they'll find me, then I'll be back where I started."

"You could…marry someone else," Padmé suggested, her tone betraying her uncertainty. She was always loath to recommend the devious way out of problems, preferring to be upfront and above board. But despite that, she never failed to find solutions, even if they sometimes involved a little deviousness.

"Marry someone else?" Sabé repeated, unsure whether to laugh or start an immediate search. "Padmé! I don't exactly have a line of suitors at the door. And besides, that still wouldn't solve the problem of me giving up my job."

"There must be someone you can strike a deal with. Someone you can marry in name who would let you go your own way. That way you could stay on Naboo."

Sabé gave a quiet, thoughtful huff, pursing her lips. "Honestly…I'm not sure I want to."

The moment the words were out, she realised she absolutely meant them. Despite lamenting that her parents' decisions affected her life in ways she didn't want, she wasn't sure she could go back to things as they were. She hadn't yet allowed herself to fully comprehend just how hurt she was, knowing that it would make her too emotional, too distracted. Until she figured out a way to avoid the marriage, she needed to keep a clear head. Still, she knew she'd have to face it eventually.

"I…I don't really know what I'm going to do," she went on. "But now…suddenly the palace doesn't feel far away enough."

Padmé tilted her head sympathetically, her gaze resting on her outstretched hand. On handheld holo projectors, eye lines rarely matched up, but Sabé appreciated the sentiment anyway.

"Well," Padmé said pensively, "Captain Typho _has_ been asking me to employ another handmaiden. I've been putting it off…you know…since Cordé. I told him I could manage with Moteé and Teckla."

"Can you?"

She was fairly sure where the conversation was headed, and she didn't want Padmé offering jobs that weren't legitimately available. Her friend was always careful with her allocated budget, but Sabé knew an additional wage being paid out would be a strain.

" _I_ can manage, yes," Padmé told her, "but sometimes I think _they_ would benefit from there being another handmaiden around. I think they struggle with security cover sometimes, especially when I travel, and I know it isn't easy for them when one of them has time off. The Queen would prefer me to have three anyway. She says it looks better." Padmé pulled a face, as if she didn't think the Queen's reasoning mattered much. "I can request a transfer, if you want. I'd be happy to have you in my service again."

Sabé managed a half-smile. "Just like old times? Thanks. I'll think about it."

"I have to go," Padmé said, annoyed. "But I'd like to talk more about this. Why don't you come and stay for a few days? I'll speak to the Queen and see if she'll let you take a leave of absence. We can figure something out."

Sabé wanted nothing more than a chance to escape for a while, and seized upon the opportunity. "Thank you, I think I will. If nothing else it will keep me from killing my parents. Murder is still illegal, right?"

"Last time I checked," Padmé replied dryly, looking at something over her shoulder. "Okay, I really do need to go. Keep me updated," she ordered before her image faded.

Sabé pocketed her holo projector, mind full. She'd quipped about not killing her parents, pretending, (either to Padmé or herself, and she wasn't sure which), that she could deal with it lightly. Nothing could be further from the truth. They'd disrupted everything in the course of one conversation. Every time she thought she had a grasp of just how much, she thought of something else. She felt a little better for talking to Padmé. The senator had a way of making all problems seem fixable, but regardless of that, she was no nearer to a real, feasible solution.

'Marry someone else,' Padmé had said, as if it were a simple matter. The only men she knew well were all guards at the palace, and since the law had been created to boost the population, same-sex alliances weren't valid, and wouldn't be a solid enough counter against it. She wouldn't trust any of her colleagues to be willing to go against the wishes of Jago and Luma Simmonite. Her parents didn't quite have Padmé's fame and reverence, but they were well-respected at the palace.

She was beginning to lose hope already, yet felt desperate to hold on to what she had left of it. Panic hovered not far away, a worrying, alien sensation, and she did her best to keep it at arm's length. She was trained to deal with every situation with a cool and level head, which she frequently did, but this was too personal, too…different. She didn't know what to do, or how to fight it. The flutter of alarm in her stomach made her feel nauseous, weak. She _hated_ that.

There came a crunch of gravel on the path, and Sabé automatically straightened up, calming herself, unwilling to show how worried she was. The steps were light. Not her father then, but neither did they sound like Luma. That just left…

Sabé glanced up, not too surprised to see her sister, Idriel, round the corner.

"Ah," she said in cynical greeting, the sarcasm keeping her voice steady. "Youngest daughter doesn't like the idea of an arranged marriage, let's wheel out the married daughter to persuade her how good it is."

"Nobody wheeled me out," Idriel stated, sitting down on the bench with all the grace and elegance that had come naturally to her, but that Sabé had had to learn. "Mother and Father asked me yesterday if I would–"

"Wait," Sabé interrupted. "You knew about this _yesterday_?"

"No, Syrena, that was what I was about to say," Idriel retorted irritably. "I was asked to come over, but I've only just found out why."

Calming her spiky temper, Sabé nodded. "And? Thoughts?"

Idriel considered, her expression calm and thoughtful. They were very similar to look at, but Idriel was clearly the elder of the two, a fact that she was always aware of and irked by. They had the same dark eyes, the same narrow nose and angular jaw line, the same long, gently waved hair, but where Sabé's was dark and generally untameable, Idriel's was the same honey-blonde as Luma's, and always impeccably styled.

"I admit I was surprised," Idriel said at length. "You've never seemed the marrying kind."

"I'm not."

"What, not at all? Or just not Senator Daedrin?"

Sabé sighed softly. The topic seemed trivial, but it was helping her keep her focus. "I'm not saying that that isn't something I would like, one day. Maybe. But not like this. Not with a man I barely know to forward the careers of my parents."

"It might turn out to be the best move you ever made," Idriel suggested, shrugging.

"Do you really believe that, or is that just what they told you to say?"

"I'm just putting a positive spin on it. You never know, you and Senator Daedrin might get along well together. Marriage might suit you, as it does me."

"You chose it though," Sabé countered. "You chose Jensen and he chose you. That's how it's supposed to work."

"I chose it, yes, but that doesn't mean I didn't make changes. I was set to be a literary student, remember? On Coruscant. I gave that up to stay here and marry Jensen, and I don't regret it."

A brief silence fell. Sabé wondered how true her sister's statement was, whether she did regret it, just a little. She didn't push the matter though. Idriel had never been particularly open about things that bothered her, a trait she'd no doubt inherited from Jago. It had made it difficult for them to be close while they were growing up. Idriel's emotional distance, plus their eight year age gap, hadn't exactly made for a bond of eternal friendship. By the time Sabé was old enough to really be a companion to her sister, Idriel was more interested in studying and boys. An unusual combination, but one that worked for her.

Idriel had married Jensen and moved out of their parents' house, and Sabé had become a handmaiden, taking a room at the palace. They had grown even more apart, not friends exactly, but not estranged either. They were civil to each other, and fond of one another in a detached kind of way. Family was family, but Sabé would always be closer to the friends she'd made during those early days at the palace: Padmé, first and foremost, and Gregar Typho, a fellow officer who currently served as Padmé's chief of security.

"So," Idriel said, breaking through her thoughts, "when is the wedding?"

Sabé couldn't help pulling a childish face in distaste. "I don't know."

Lowering her voice, Idriel asked, "Are you going to go through with it?"

Sabé glanced at her, surprised that she would ask, immediately suspicious that her parents were using her sister as a spy. Idriel certainly wouldn't help her get out of it, she knew that for sure. Like many others, she respected their parents' position too much.

"What choice do I have?" Sabé said rhetorically. "It's the law."

Idriel nodded in agreement, and they sat in a heavy silence that dragged and felt awkward. She didn't ask any more questions, and Sabé assumed that she'd gotten the answers she was sent out for.

"So, do _you_ have any news?" Sabé put forward eventually.

A wide, radiant smile blossomed on her sister's face. "Actually, I do. Jensen and I are expecting a baby."

Sabé grinned, genuinely pleased for her, and pleased to see her so happy. "Idriel, that's wonderful. I'm going to be an auntie! I can teach them all sorts, like how to shoot, how to defend themselves, how to-"

"Don't you dare!" Idriel exclaimed. "You will take them to holo movies and babysit, that's all!"

"So no blasters as birthday presents?"

"Definitely not!"

They shared a giggle, enjoying the rare moment of harmony, but then Idriel spoiled it by saying, "You may have one of your own in a year or so."

Sabé sobered immediately. Another reason why she had to get out of the marriage. She didn't want children. She knew she might change her mind if she ever found the right person, but as things were she was adamant that she didn't want them.

Unwilling to have that conversation, she uttered a vague, "Maybe."

The garden suddenly seemed like a detention yard, and she couldn't wait to get back to her room at the palace. Her fight or flight instinct was clamouring for attention, and she quieted it by reminding herself that tomorrow she would fly to Coruscant, to her allies: her friends.

She stood up abruptly, causing Idriel to raise her eyebrows in mild surprise.

"I should go and speak to Mother and Father," she told her. "Get this matter settled. I'm sure they'd rather talk about the baby with you."

"We have seven more months to talk about the baby," Idriel said with a smile, getting to her feet. "This takes priority."

They walked back through the garden in silence, Sabé still unsure of her sister's true opinion of the arranged marriage. She studied their approaching reflection in the large windows that formed the entire back wall of the apartment. One golden head, one dark. One tall and elegant, the other walking with a melancholy slouch. Idriel's gown was plainer in style, but the fabric was more decorative. Sabé's was in-keeping with palace fashions, and had draping, layered sleeves and a sweeping neckline, but the colours were plain and her belt was practical. Just like when they were children, they couldn't be more different if they tried.

Seated back on the chair in Jago's office, Idriel hovering diplomatically behind, Sabé faced her parents with a sombre, contrite expression.

"I'm sorry if you feel I've been difficult about this," she began, her tone rather formal as she attempted to get the speech out, "but you must understand that marriage wasn't something I was thinking of for myself. Not right now. Maybe not ever. I can't say that I'm happy about your decision, and I wish you'd talked to me sooner. That said, I appreciate that you are within your rights according to the law." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "If I am to marry Senator Daedrin, I would like the opportunity to get to know him better. I've spoken to Padmé, and she's offered to let me stay with her for a few days, so I'll be flying to Coruscant in the morning. I intend to meet Senator Daedrin while I'm away, if he can spare the time."

Her parents exchanged a look, and Sabé knew at once that she'd hit the right tone of reluctant acceptance. She tried to keep her relief from showing on her face.

"That sounds like a good idea," Luma said. To her credit, her smile was gentle and not overbearingly victorious. Sabé realised that that was for her benefit.

She nodded, and rose to her feet. "I'd better go and pack. Padmé said she'd clear my absence with the Queen, but I'd like to speak to her myself as well."

"Of course."

"This is going to be a wonderful opportunity for you, Syrena," Jago added.

She didn't trust herself to say any more, so she simply nodded again, turning to leave. Idriel followed her to the door, surprising her by pulling her into a brief hug.

"I know you don't want this," her sister muttered in her ear, "but try to make the best of it, okay? Things have a way of turning out."

"I hope you're right," she said truthfully.

Idriel let her go, studying her face with a faintly calculating air. Sabé had no intention of confiding in her. She was convinced that whatever she said would make its way back to her parents. So she smiled as best as she was able, and said goodbye. Her added congratulations wiped the doubt from her sister's face, replacing it with a beaming smile. Seizing her opportunity, Sabé slipped out the door.

She felt better for being outside in the late afternoon sunlight, but everything seemed suddenly oppressive. Not caring about who saw her, she began running for the palace, her skirts held up in one hand, her elegant shoes constantly reminding her that they were not made for dashing about. Disregarding years of etiquette training, she pelted up the steps and through the corridors, finally reaching the privacy of her small suite of rooms. Leaning back against the door that slid mercifully closed on the world, she simply stood there, breathing heavily.

She tilted her spinning head back, resting it against the door, hating the way she felt. She was a security officer, a soldier, trained to fight battles and eliminate threats. She was comfortable with that. But this…this was a problem she couldn't fight, not in the way she knew how. And that made her incredibly uneasy.

"But that's why you're going to see Padmé," she told herself aloud. "This is her kind of battle."

Moving away from the door, she kicked off her shoes and plopped down on her desk chair. She really did need to pack and speak to the Queen, but her motivation had momentarily stepped out. Her biggest worry was that 'marry someone else' would be the extent of Padmé's plan. That seemed an impossible task, and she wasn't sure that it would be any better than marrying Daedrin. It would be her choice, that was a plus, but other than that… Padmé could work to overturn the law in her professional capacity, but Sabé knew that that would take months, maybe even years. She needed a quicker solution.

The blinking light on her data pad drew her attention, showing a new message. It was a letter from Obi-Wan Kenobi. Momentarily sidetracked, surprised by his quick reply, she accessed it.

 _Dear Sabé,_

 _This is just to inform you that I too have nothing of any merit to say. I suppose the letters will be incessantly boring from this point on. Ah well._

 _Your true friend,_

 _Obi-Wan Kenobi._

 _P.S. Only joking. Proper reply coming in a day or two._

She chuckled, archiving the message. When she'd first met him, she would never have guessed that he had a sense of humour. He'd been so serious, so intense in everything he did. It was strange sometimes to think that the man she was friends with was the same solemn Jedi Padawan she'd temporarily fooled into thinking she was the Queen. She wondered if he'd have any advice to offer about her dilemma, or whether such a problem – so far removed from what the Jedi usually had to deal with – would stump him.

Steering her thoughts back on track, she stood up and headed to the fresher. If she was going to speak to Queen Neeyutnee she needed to be tidy. Five minutes with a comb and a handful of hairpins did the trick.

Sabé knew the Queen's schedule like the back of her hand, and knew exactly when she could steal a few minutes of her time. She didn't anticipate any hiccups with her time off. The Queen was young, only fifteen years old, and treated Padmé with the familiar reverence that the senator frequently got from her people. She often took Padmé's advice when it was offered, and was wont to do her a favour if asked.

As predicted, Sabé was granted her week's leave. The Queen had spoken to Padmé already, and had been expecting her request. The meeting was over within five minutes, and Sabé headed back to her room to pack.

As she worked, methodically sorting what she needed, her mind turned over everything that had happened that day. Padmé's earlier phrase 'marry someone else' kept making its presence known, playing over and over in her head until she was ready to scream. She was sure that the answer could never be that simple, and so to have it repeated as a constant reminder of unhelpful advice was more than a little annoying. She wondered if Padmé would expect her to advertise.

 _Wanted: One partner for marriage of convenience. Must be willing to have no involvement in wife's life whatsoever._

She gave an unladylike snort. It was absurd. It was _all_ absurd. If only she could bring herself to laugh at it.

With reluctance, she was starting to think that maybe Padmé _was_ on the right track after all. Marrying someone else, on her own terms, might be the only quick solution that gave her a chance of retaining some normality. But like she'd said when the point was initially raised, a partner willing to marry her just to get her out of her parents' arrangement was not going to be easy to find.

And then, out of the blue, a phrase from the letter she'd read floated back to her.

 _Your true friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi._

Sabé halted her packing, her heart racing, wondering if she dared ask… He was a noble and loyal man who had been her friend for eleven steady years. She trusted him completely. The fact that he was a Jedi was a complication, but one that could work to her advantage. A Jedi had no interest in marriage. Logically, they would be more open to the suggestion of a marriage in name only, and wouldn't ask her for things she was not willing to give. She knew that the Jedi Council had been known to grant permission for marriages in extreme circumstances. Sabé wasn't sure that she qualified as one of those, but she was willing to try. She _had_ to try.

A flicker of optimism made its way cautiously into her thoughts. It was crazy. It was the craziest plan she'd ever formulated, but so far, it was her best hope. Sabé glanced up from the gown she was folding, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. Her dark eyes were wide, her lips pressed tightly together in stubborn-yet-apprehensive determination. She would do it. She would fly to Coruscant, she would walk into the Temple, and she would ask a Jedi Master to marry her. And she would hope to the gods that he said yes.

* * *

 **A/N:** OC fan casts for those who are interested:

Jago - Jeremy Irons  
Luma - Greta Scacchi  
Idriel - Blonde Lena Headey

Next update should hopefully be in about two weeks, we'll see how we go.


	4. Flight

**A/N:** Hello and welcome to chapter four. I have nothing much else to say because I'm melting. The UK has gone kind of crazy and we don't have air con here :/

* * *

 **Chapter Four – Flight.**

After a less restful night than she would have liked, Sabé was up at first light packing the last of her belongings for the week ahead. The fight or flight instinct that she'd felt at her parents' apartment was still hovering irritatingly at the back of her mind, and she hoped that leaving Naboo sooner rather than later would quiet it.

One of the privileges of being a handmaiden was free use of the royal starfighters. Sabé fully intended to take advantage of it, and made a detour to Captain Panaka's office to sign one out. Her superior officer was not yet on duty, but she wasn't surprised to see him sitting at his desk anyway, his usual cup of caf in front of him. The man gave a whole new meaning to being dedicated to the job.

"So," he began without preamble, "you're flying off for a week?"

Disapproval emanated from him in waves: in his voice, in his folded arms and stern frown, in his severe, clear gaze as he studied her.

Sabé had known him for years, and was well aware that his bark was worse than his bite.

"I cleared it with the Queen," she told him placidly, filling out the relevant flimsi forms.

"I am your superior, Sabé, you should have cleared it with _me_."

She didn't argue, because she knew he had a point. It had slipped her mind in the madness of the previous day. It was unfortunate but understandable, she thought. Explaining it, however, would be a waste of time. Panaka didn't do sympathy, especially where his officers were involved.

"Next time I will," she said. She didn't smile, because he'd think she was playing him, but she shot him a companionable nod.

"Hmph," he grunted.

Sabé bit her lip to keep from smiling. She knew her almost-impeccable record was the only thing keeping him from ranting at her. That, and the fact that he hadn't touched his morning caf yet.

They sat in silence while Sabé completed the form, Panaka making slow but steady progress on his beverage.

"I want that starfighter back in one piece," he barked at her, his way of letting her know that they were okay.

Sabé nodded. "Yes, sir."

"See you in a week."

She did smile then, because despite his grumpiness, she was fond of him. "See you in a week."

"And tell that nephew of mine to call once in a while. I'm starting to forget what he looks like."

Sabé agreed, not hiding her amusement. She handed him one copy of her form, then made her way out of the palace, hearing it start to awaken as she walked the corridors. The hangar wasn't far, less than five minutes away. As she started down the palace steps, she noted the unusual quiet of the streets, clear of tourists and commuters. Only market traders were about so early in the morning, already busy setting up their stalls. Through the comparative emptiness, the approaching figures of her parents stood out jarringly.

Taken aback, Sabé halted on the steps, their unexpected presence there unnerving her. They only came to the palace on political business, and she knew full well that the Queen wouldn't be receiving anyone until later in the morning.

She walked down to greet them, trying to keep the majority of her surprise from her voice. "Mother, Father, what are you doing here?"

"We came to say goodbye," Luma explained with a tight smile.

Sabé resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her parents had picked a spectacularly inconvenient time to take an interest in her life. It was ironic really. When she was younger she would have given anything for them to visit her simply to bid her farewell, but now she just wanted her solitude back.

"Oh…" she muttered, trailing off. "Um…goodbye."

"It's very early to be setting off, isn't it?" Her mother glanced around, as if to illustrate her point with the lack of people on the streets.

Sabé had hoped to make a clean getaway. She hated the thought that she was predictable, especially to Jago and Luma, who'd never appeared to really pay attention to any of her habits and traits.

"I want to make the most of my free time," Sabé explained. It was partially true. "Besides, I'm hardly going to meet Senator Daedrin like this." She gestured to her pilot's uniform: smart, practical, and the exact opposite of what Luma classed as appropriate attire for charming suitors. "I don't know when I might see him, so I thought I'd give myself plenty of time to freshen up and relax at Padmé's first."

"I'm glad you brought that up," her father put in. "We spoke to Senator Daedrin after you left yesterday."

"Oh?" said Sabé, the familiar sinking feeling already making itself known.

"He wondered if you'd meet him for lunch."

"Today?"

"Today." Jago peered at her as she scrambled for a suitable response. "You do still plan on seeing him, don't you?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, going a little overboard on the brightness. Inwardly wincing, she toned it down. "That's the whole point of the trip, after all. Where and when should I meet him?"

All visible signs of suspicion fading from his face, her father seemed to relax. "In the main foyer of the Senate at noon."

Sabé nodded automatically. "Right. Thank you for, um, coming to tell me." Suddenly desperate to be away, she flashed a quick smile and continued down the steps. "I'd better get going. I'll see you when I get back."

She knew her hasty departure was less than subtle, but she couldn't bring herself to care. If her parents were wary they didn't appear to show it, and said a hurried goodbye before letting her go. Sabé had absolutely no intention of meeting Senator Daedrin at noon, and she hoped that she'd managed to keep that fact from Jago and Luma.

She met no one else on the street, and the hangar was blissfully empty too. Social interaction wasn't one of her priorities right then and there, a fact that the brief conversation with her parents had clarified. The droid in the security booth accepted her sign out form, pointing out which one-seater ship she was allocated. Happy to concentrate on something that was less self-involved than her concerns of the past day, Sabé began running through the pre-flight checklist, making sure the ship was in good enough condition to get her to Coruscant. It was purely routine. Every vehicle in the palace hangar was checked and serviced on a regular basis, with even the smallest faults dealt with. Sabé did not expect trouble from her ship, and so was not surprised to find that everything was pristine.

After stowing her small suitcase in the luggage compartment, she climbed the short ladder to the cockpit to run through the system checks. It was tedious, but necessary. The monitor flashed up a series of reports, accompanied by green symbols that indicated how well everything was working. Sabé let it get on with it, looking out of the viewport at the hangar's vast expanse. She remembered a time long ago when she'd crossed the dark, polished floor towards the royal cruiser, surrounded by battle droids and hostages. She'd been dressed as a queen, feeling like an anxious imposter, only slightly reassured by the presence of the Jedi leading the way ahead. Obi-Wan had been nothing but a nameless apprentice who'd leapt from the sky to her rescue, and had gone striding off to free the pilots with enviable calm. Would he react with that same calm when she told him her plan? Or would he call her selfish and refuse his help? She thought the latter option was unlikely, but somehow she couldn't quite shake off her apprehension.

The sound of the hangar doors sliding open jolted her out of her reflections. Two men entered, dressed in matching blue flightsuits, each carrying a bag. They paused to talk to the droid in security. Sabé couldn't hear what they were saying, but their bright, cheerful tones echoed across the room, drawing a cynical groan from her. She was in an exceptionally grumpy mood that morning.

The monitor displayed the last of the pre-flight reports, and she cleared the screen. After searching the cockpit for a helmet, she eventually spotted it hanging on a hook on the wall below. With a put-upon sigh, she scrambled back down the ladder, snatching the helmet with more force than was necessary. The two men passed her as she was adjusting the chin strap, the nearest one giving her a polite nod of acknowledgement. She returned it with a brief smile. Her red and grey uniform clearly identified her as a royal security officer, and she valued their reputation too much to impose her grouchiness on a couple of innocent strangers.

As they passed, she saw the man who had nodded to her exchange a pointed look with his companion. Sabé halted, one foot on the ladder, her eyes narrowed as she watched them. Being a bodyguard made her naturally suspicious, a trait that paid off when lives were at stake, but could get tiresome in everyday life. She watched as the two started preparations for their own ship. They paid her no more attention, nor even looked in her direction. Chances were they were just going about their business. Unless they were ignoring her on purpose to appear normal.

Cautiously, keeping on eye on them, she ascended to the cockpit once more. Her nerves were already a little more frayed than usual, and she was afraid that she was reacting with paranoia more than instinct. She was done with her pre-flight checks, and there was no way they'd be able to follow her through hyperspace. Forcing herself to relax, Sabé put them out of mind and fired up the engines.

She let the autopilot fly her out of the hangar, taking control to guide the ship into orbit. A cluster of hyperspace rings floated there, and she headed towards a compatible one. Punching the coordinates into the nav computer, Sabé made the first jump, watching the stars turn to bright streaks through the canopy.

The journey through hyperspace gave her opportunity to think, to let in the concerns and doubts that she'd managed to keep at bay all morning: namely the fact that she was on her way to carry out the most desperate, half-formed, unlikely plan that she'd ever had the misfortune to be the author of. She knew she was running away, and it didn't sit well with her, going against her training as a bodyguard. As she'd reflected before, an arranged marriage was an unexpected setback that she didn't know how to fight. If she was in a generous mood, she would have said that she was beating a strategic retreat, not running away. But it certainly _felt_ like running away.

In her periods of wakefulness during the night, she'd struggled to understand her parents' line of thought, trying unsuccessfully to find one redeeming aspect of their decision. She'd always gone her own way: taken what jobs she wanted, dated who she wanted, taken on basic training with the Order of Sanctuary, accepted their invitation to be a fully-fledged member, then joined the Palace Guard as a handmaiden. Although there'd been disagreements and protests along the way, Jago and Luma had never stooped so low as to actually interfere in her life. The fact that they would do so now, and with something so important and life-altering, left her bewildered and hurt. She just couldn't comprehend their lack of respect for her choices, her wishes. Sabé wasn't used to feeling as if what she wanted didn't matter.

She watched the pale rush of stars outside the viewport, feeling her anger burn in her chest. She would get out of it somehow, if not with Obi-Wan's help, then with someone's. But the damage had already been done. Whether she was victorious or not, her life would be inescapably changed. She had already decided to accept Padmé's job offer. After she'd sorted out the Daedrin problem, she would swap Naboo for Coruscant. She wouldn't avoid her parents completely, she knew that. They were Padmé's liaisons after all, but there would be less need to see them in person, and she could easily miss their conference calls.

The introspection was making her melancholy, and she turned her attention to other things, _anything_. For the remainder of the journey she spent her time thinking up ridiculous names to suggest to Idriel for the baby, singing cheerful songs out loud and judging how out of tune she was, and trying to predict just how mad Panaka would be when he heard she was leaving the Queen's service.

All in all, the flight to the capital was trouble-free, and she was able to make a timely arrival. She'd cleared her ETA with Padmé, making her friend aware that she wanted to leave Naboo as early as possible. With the time difference and the length of the journey, Padmé wasn't too inconvenienced.

Sabé spotted a speeder below as she approached the landing platform. She guided her ship in, landing neatly in the designated area in the centre of the platform. Shutting the system down, she opened the canopy, and was immediately hit by a wave of cold air and disruptive noise.

 _Welcome to Coruscant_ , she thought wryly, climbing out on to the ladder.

"Hello, stranger," came a familiar voice, a voice that she'd missed more than she'd realised.

She turned her head, a grin spreading wide. "Gregar!" she cried, the word muffled by her helmet.

He stood below, garbed as always in his captain's uniform, and, as always, looking more comfortable in it than anyone else she knew. He was grinning too, his single good eye flashing a spark of amusement.

"Say again?" he quipped.

Sabé tugged off the helmet, dropping it onto the seat, and shut the canopy before jumping the final few steps of the ladder. She ran the short distance, leaping into his arms, knocking his hat askew. He grunted, then laughed, lifting her off her feet just because he could.

"It's so good to see you," she said sincerely, hugging him tightly.

"Were you always this heavy?"

"Shut up!"

He let her down, and they drew apart. Dark-olive-skinned, good-looking, his black hair cut short for practicality, he stood half a head taller than Sabé. He was stocky, built powerfully, another graduate of his uncle Panaka's demanding training. A silver patch covered where his left eye was missing, and his right eye was often the only clue to his innermost thoughts, the rest hidden behind a stoic mask. Sabé studied him, noting the differences from the last time she'd seen him. He seemed tired, and not just in the sense that he was probably not getting enough sleep, but a deep, down-to-the-marrow weariness. She knew why. A year ago, Padmé had married Anakin Skywalker in secret, subjecting Gregar to a lifetime of knowing that the woman he loved had chosen someone else.

He sent her a little smile of acknowledgement as she finished her appraisal. She'd always been able to read him, and he knew that. That was partly why she'd become, and remained, his closest confidant.

"Thank you for coming to meet me," Sabé said. "I'm surprised Padmé could spare you."

"We both thought you'd want to see a familiar face," he explained. "She didn't want to draw too much attention to your arrival. The HoloNet crews have been following her for a week."

Sabé frowned, folding her arms. "Why is that?"

Gregar wrinkled his nose, his expression all ridicule and contempt. "Because she debuted a new dress at a charity function."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

Sabé rolled her eyes. "Don't people have better things to be worried about? I mean, there is a war on."

Gregar gave a shrug, still looking aggravated at the whole situation. "Apparently not. It's damned annoying. I never know if the people stalking her are assassins or journalists, and it's illegal to shoot the latter. Allegedly. I doubt anyone would really complain."

"Gregar Typho, you're turning into your uncle," she told him in mock seriousness.

While there were similarities in their professional demeanours, Gregar had a long way to go before he matched Panaka in brusqueness, irritability, and sheer obstinacy.

He fixed her with a narrow-eyed look, not rising to her gentle teasing. She chuckled.

"Have you missed me?" she asked sweetly.

"Not really," he said wryly, earning a whack on the arm.

She hadn't hit him hard, and he didn't even bother pretending that it affected him, shooting her an impish grin.

Sabé headed back to the ship to retrieve her bag, blowing tendrils of hair out of her face. The helmet had all but destroyed the bun she'd hastily constructed that morning. Gregar took the bag from her, and they walked to the speeder together. As they went, he slung an arm across her shoulders in an awkward hug.

"It hasn't been the same without you around," he admitted.

She sent him a smile, more grateful to be back with him, and soon with Padmé too, than she could put into words.

"How are things?" she asked, as they got settled in the speeder. "You know, with you?"

Gregar pulled a face, negotiating away from the landing platform and into the streams of traffic. "How you would expect, I guess."

Sabé didn't press him to elaborate. She could imagine the anguish he dealt with, seeing Padmé every day and having to maintain distance, not only out of professional propriety, but because she was a married woman.

"Must be difficult," she mumbled, because she felt obliged to say something.

"And then some."

"Have you ever thought about leaving?" She glanced at him, studying his profile. His expression was neutral, but she wasn't fooled. "It would be…kinder. Easier. You'd be able to move on."

"I could never leave her," he stated quietly. "Even if I can't be with her, I can make sure she's safe. It…comforts me to know that. Despite…despite whatever pain it causes me."

Sabé looked ahead, staring into the tail light of the vehicle in front. "Is it…" She paused, considering the question, half afraid to ask, not wanting to somehow make it worse. "Is it very bad?"

Gregar gave a single bark of humourless laughter. "It's torture," he told her, his voice unnaturally blank.

Sabé reached out a hand, covering his where it rested on the speeder controls. She had no words, just silent support.

He acknowledged it with a quick smile before becoming sombre once more. "Seriously, Sabé…I…I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I hope to the gods that you never have to go through anything like this."

"Me? Oh, I'll be fine," she reassured. "I'm too cold-hearted to fall in love."

"Don't joke, I meant that."

Sabé squeezed his hand before drawing hers back. "I know," she said softly. "But your situation is fairly unique. I know it doesn't make it any easier, but I'm pretty sure it's true. And with regards to me, well…I've not yet found the time for love, and I doubt that'll change any time soon."

Some of his levity returning, Gregar shot her a glance. "That's sad. You never know."

He guided the speeder out of the lane it was in, veering off towards the Senate Apartment Complex where Padmé's penthouse home awaited.

Sabé laughed, but the wind snatched it away. "I love you, and I love Padmé. That's more than enough to be going around for now."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

"Well, I don't…it's…" She gave a short, irritated huff. "Oh, stop it, Gregar, this isn't about me."

They joined the line of vehicles waiting to park in the sprawling lot beneath the complex, and Sabé tucked her wayward hair behind her ears.

Gregar shot her a look, raising one slanting eyebrow. "It's _all_ about you, that's why you're here."

She gave a huff. She'd been enjoying discussing other things, despite learning of her friend's pain. Being reminded of why she was there sobered her.

"Of course," she murmured, her tone betraying all her anxiety and reluctance.

She just caught his sympathetic look out of the corner of her eye. "It will be okay," he said warmly, and she almost believed him.

"Guess we'll see," she put in noncommittally, half hoping it would be a conversation stopper.

They sat in silence as Gregar parked the speeder in the private bay allocated to Padmé's apartment. It was one of the perks of being influential enough to rent the penthouse: never having to worry about finding a parking space, and having a turbolift right beside it that went straight to the top floor.

They got out, rescuing Sabé's bag from the backseat, and headed towards the turbolift. A droid was working there, sifting through a mass of coloured wires that snaked from the wall panel it had removed.

"Sorry, sir," it said as they got closer, "this lift is out of order. Please make your way to the main foyer and take the lifts there."

"What's wrong with it?" Gregar barked, wary, as always, of security breaches. "Do my men upstairs know about it?"

"Yes, sir. They were the ones who reported the fault."

A quick com call upstairs confirmed the droid's story, and they made their way to the public lifts. Sometimes a broken lift was just a broken lift.

The main foyer was bustling, a steady stream of residents coming and going, intertwined with the throngs of tourists and visitors. As they crossed to the turbolifts, Sabé caught sight of two men in blue jumpsuits talking to the droid on reception. Her stomach gave a twist as her mind flashed to the men from the hangar on Naboo. Had she been followed? She could only see their backs, but she thought their hair colours were the same. They'd been prepping a larger ship than hers, it wasn't out of the question that its more advanced hyperspace engines could have brought them to Coruscant in fewer jumps, putting them ahead of her.

'You're paranoid, Sabé,' she scolded herself internally. 'Probably just a coincidence, or not even them.'

Keeping her eyes on them as they waited in line, she hoped for some kind of confirmation of her fears, but even when she could see their faces, she wasn't sure. She wished she'd paid more attention back in the hangar, but she'd been distracted and testy, and hadn't bothered to commit their faces to memory. She wouldn't make that schoolgirl error again.

"What's up?" Gregar asked, noticing her wary glances.

"Tell you later."

"Okay."

Both taught by the ever-cautious Panaka, they knew better than to discuss anything but the most trivial gossip in crowded places.

Gregar fished in a pouch at his belt for his ID. "Do you want us to get a lift to ourselves?"

"Can you do that?" Sabé questioned sceptically.

"Don't know. Let's try."

She followed him through the horde to the turbolift attendant, a stressed-looking Bith who was skilfully keeping things moving as best as he was able. Gregar stepped up to him, flashing his ID card.

"I'm Captain Typho, Senator Amidala's chief of security," he introduced. "The lot lift is out of order, any chance the senator's associate here can take a private lift?" He gestured at Sabé, who drew herself up importantly.

Dropping Padmé's name opened a lot of doors. The attendant studied Gregar's ID, then nodded.

"Of course, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience, madam," he added to Sabé.

"Not a problem," she said graciously.

When the turbolift arrived, dropping off two Wookiees and a Bothan, the attendant waved them forward, holding everyone else back. Happy to let him deal with the chorus of irritated protests, Sabé hit the keypad to close the door.

Gregar put his ID card away, looking impressed. "I wasn't sure that was going to work. Good to know."

Sabé nodded in agreement, lips upturned in a small smirk. "Yes, but I wouldn't do it too often when escorting women. You'll get a reputation."

He laughed. "I hadn't thought of that. Hmm…the possibilities."

She giggled, shaking her head, leaning back against the railing that lined the curved walls. Gregar did the same opposite her, folding his arms.

Sobering again, he asked, "So what was going on with you back there?"

Her smile dropping, Sabé explained about the two men, adding that there was probably nothing in it. The thought that her parents would have her followed seemed absurd, and yet she couldn't rule it out. With a painful jolt she was reminded that she didn't trust them, and she wouldn't put it past them to send someone to keep an eye on her. They had known she was going to Padmé's apartment, and she hadn't been at all confident that they had fallen for the sincerity of her agreement to the marriage. Was it really so important to them that she saw Senator Daedrin while she was on Coruscant?

Even if it turned out not to be the men from the hangar, or if it was a coincidence, she knew she would have to assume otherwise just to be safe. She would have to make the lunch date at noon.

She pulled a face as she spoke the realisation aloud, guessing that she looked like a child who didn't want to go to school, judging by the way Gregar tried to hold back a smile.

"Just think of it as reconnaissance," the captain suggested.

Sabé sighed, but nodded. It was a helpful way to look at it. Above the door, the floor numbers flickered past, too fast to register. They were almost at the penthouse.

"Sabé," Gregar began, his tone grave yet sincere, "I know what Padmé advised you to do."

"You mean marry someone else?"

"Yeah."

She glanced at him, frowning, taking in his serious expression, the way he seemed slightly conflicted about what he was turning over in his mind.

Meeting her gaze earnestly, he continued. "I was thinking…it would make sense if…if that person was me."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that.

"We're friends, you trust me, life would carry on as normal."

She shook her head, saying gently, "No, Gregar. I appreciate that you would ask…more than you know. But that's not what you want…you…" She trailed off, unable to find the words. His feelings for Padmé had been obvious to her almost from the first moment they met, and she had a sympathetic respect for that.

"What I want doesn't matter," he said bluntly. He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "No, let me finish. I know what you're thinking, but it's irrelevant. She made her choice, and it wasn't me. Maybe one day I'll get over that, but it won't be any time soon. She's…" He left the sentence incomplete, glancing away as he finished it internally. "I'll never be free. I'll always love her, but I know I may as well…love a dream."

Sabé watched the slideshow of emotions cross his face, wishing there was something she could say to comfort him, but it all seemed hollow.

"My point is," he went on, "the woman I love isn't free, and I can't see myself wanting anyone else. So if I can help you, then that's what I want to do."

She bit her lip, touched by the thought. "Thank you. I…it means a lot, really. But…I can't. Padmé would never forgive me."

"Padmé doesn't feel anything for me, if she ever did." His voice was laced with bitterness. She didn't blame him for that.

"I disagree. You _know_ she did."

She couldn't clarify it for him because he refused to see sense. She understood that he was protecting himself from more emotional pain, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Padmé still harboured feelings for him, Sabé was sure of it. They had been there before, and they were there still, despite whatever she felt for Anakin. If Sabé took Gregar up on his offer, regardless of whether it was a marriage in name only, she knew Padmé would be hurt. She attempted to explain her thought process, but she knew he wouldn't concur, a fact that his expression confirmed as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"Look," she said, trying a different direction, "I have a plan…kind of. There's someone I'm going to ask for help. I don't know if he'll agree, but if he does then I'll be okay."

Gregar pressed his lips together in a hard line of disapproval. Perhaps it was still due to his lack of comprehension of the reason behind her refusal, or perhaps it was the thought of her being potentially reckless. Sabé wasn't yet ready to share the details to ease his mind. She was too apprehensive about the whole thing.

They squared off for a moment, staring each other down from opposite sides of the turbolift. Gregar still stern, Sabé more neutral, one eyebrow raised. Before either one could back down, the doors chimed and slid open, revealing the short corridor to Padmé's apartment door. They broke eye contact and exited the lift, neither willing to travel back downstairs for the sake of stubbornness.

Sabé headed for the door, but halted when Gregar placed a hand on her arm. She glanced up at him expectantly, meeting his resigned gaze.

"Okay, look," he said, conceding with visible reluctance. Still she couldn't bring herself to tell him he didn't need to worry. "I trust your judgement. Carry out your plan. I hope it works out. But promise me…if he says no, consider my offer."

She nodded, sending him a tiny smile. "I will. Thank you, Gregar."

Not for the first time, she wondered what it was that stopped her falling for him. He was so loyal and kind, always putting others, (mainly Padmé, it had to be said), before himself, suffering through pain that could be avoided for the sake of Padmé's safety. He made her laugh, gave her a shoulder to cry on, and she knew that he'd always be there when she needed him. Really, she reflected, she should be head over heels. But their relationship had never turned that way.

Gregar gave a nod of his own, stepping ahead to press the door chime. Teckla answered it after a few moments, her dark hair hidden by a purple hooded cloak. A handmaiden that Padmé had transferred from Varykino Lodge on Naboo, Teckla had been serving her on Coruscant since the start of the war, following Dormé's resignation. Sabé didn't know her very well, and the other woman's naturally quiet demeanour sometimes made her difficult to talk to, but she was pleasant and good at her job, if lacking the rigorous training that Sabé had received.

"Welcome, Lady Sabé," Teckla greeted, smiling. "The senator is waiting for you in the lounge. I'll bring some tea shortly."

"Thank you."

Sabé and Gregar made their way to the apartment's spacious, terraced lounge, a room dominated by the views through its missing outer wall, the gap covered instead by an almost-invisible force field. The room was all elegant neutral tones, marble floored, with curved sofas surrounding a water feature. Huge drapes hung artistically beside the supporting columns, and two large statues guarded the steps down to the veranda.

Padmé was there, sitting on one of the sofas, surrounded by data pads and pieces of flimsi. She leapt up when they entered the room, hurrying over to wrap Sabé in a hug. Her smile was a pleasant welcome, despite not being as bright as Sabé remembered.

"It's so good to see you!" the senator greeted enthusiastically.

"You too," Sabé replied, drawing back to return Padmé's smile. "Thank you so much for letting me stay. I just...I needed to get away."

"It's fine. Any time."

Sabé knew she meant that, and she felt a wave of gratitude towards her friend for everything she was doing, and would do, to help her.

"Come and sit down," Padmé said, gesturing to the sofas. Turning away, she tidied her flimsi sheets into a neat pile, resting the data pads on top. She was casually dressed. By her own standards, that was. Padmé's casual was most other people's well-dressed and sophisticated. She wore a simple dress of olive green, and her dark, wavy hair was loose, held back only by a minimal silver band at her brow. Her face was free of make-up, but looked fresh and beautiful, showing only a trace of the stress and pressure that she constantly carried.

"If you don't need me, M'lady, I'll check on the broken turbolift situation," Gregar cut in.

Padmé barely glanced his way, agreeing in a flat, formal tone. "Of course. Go ahead, Captain."

Gregar bowed, despite the senator's turned back, flashed Sabé a tight smile, then departed.

Sabé inwardly sighed, finding it difficult not to take sides in the emotional soap opera that was her friends' lives. It wasn't helped by the fact that she didn't dislike Anakin. The young man was cocky, brash, and occasionally demanding, but his heart was in the right place, and he'd saved hundreds of lives during the course of the war. He'd always been pleasant to her, although she suspected that that was gratitude for keeping Padmé safe, and not really for her own sake.

She followed Padmé, taking a seat next to her on the sofa. Her friend fixed her with a steady look, all business.

"How have things been since we spoke yesterday? Do you have a plan?"

"I...think so," Sabé replied cautiously. "I've thought about it a lot, and the only solution that seems workable...I've...I've decided to try what you suggested, marry someone else."

They both fell silent as Teckla entered with the tea. It was not that their topic was a secret, but Sabé felt too raw about it to discuss it with anyone but her friends. The quiet handmaiden placed the tray on a side table, moving it within reach, then she bowed and swiftly left.

Padmé served them both, something that went against Sabé's handmaiden instincts. She accepted her tea cup and held it resting on her lap, warming her palms.

"So," Padmé continued, "you have someone in mind?"

Sabé bit her lip, suddenly wary and slightly embarrassed, although she wasn't quite sure why. "Yes," she answered at length, her tone cautious, "but...I'm not sure I want to say who. He...he might not agree." She sighed, swirling the plume of steam rising from her tea. "Are we sure this is the best solution?"

"Nothing short of revoking the law itself will get you out of it," Padmé told her firmly. "And we both know that that's going to be a long path." If the task daunted her, she didn't let on.

"Are you sure you want to go ahead with that?" Sabé felt compelled to ask, guilty for the trouble she'd be putting her friend through. "I don't want to take you away from other work."

Padmé seemed surprised that she was mentioning it. "Of course. It would take too long for it to benefit you, but it could help someone in the future who might be in the same situation. It's an outdated, irrelevant law, it _should_ be repealed. Not to mention, it's completely misogynistic," she added, her tone snappish in righteous anger.

Sabé nodded, lips twitching in a tiny smirk. "You could have just said 'yes'."

Padmé pointedly ignored her, stirring her tea, pasting on her most serene expression. Sabé chuckled.

"What will you do if your...um...your potential future husband doesn't agree?" Padmé enquired, struggling for the appropriate term.

"I'm not sure," Sabé admitted. "Run away and start a life of crime maybe?"

"A little drastic, don't you think?"

"Probably." Changing the subject she said, "Have you seen Anakin much lately?"

Padmé shook her head. "No. Since he's become a Knight and taken a Padawan he's sent out on more assignments." Her voice was level, conversational. Sabé found her more difficult to read than usual, a fact that puzzled her somewhat.

Putting her uncertainty aside, she carried on. "Obi-Wan mentioned in one of his letters that Anakin had passed the trials. He was very proud, I think."

Padmé nodded in agreement, still placid. "Anakin said the same. They're quite the team, the HoloNet loves them. They still get assigned to the same missions most of the time. I guess because they work so well together."

"Are they both away from the Temple then? I was hoping to see them while I was here." Sabé tried to look casual as she dug for information, well aware that it would be far more straightforward to simply _ask_ Padmé what she wanted to know.

"Anakin's away. Obi-Wan's not. He won't be here for long though, the Council members never are."

"Oh, well I'll try and drop round to say hello."

A comfortable silence fell. Sabé sipped her tea, idly watching the speeders zip by outside. A stray thought occurred to her, and she shifted her gaze to Padmé.

"It can't be easy for you," she began, "being between me and my parents. They do work for you, after all."

Padmé raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I hadn't thought of it that way," she admitted. "But this has nothing to do with that. I don't agree with this law, and I don't agree with their decision to make you marry. The work they do for me as my advisors shouldn't be relevant. I won't see you married off to a virtual stranger against your will."

Sabé nodded, looking down at her tea, grateful, relieved, yet still full of guilt that she was disrupting so many people's everyday lives, Obi-Wan included. "Thank you," she said, hating how small and trivial the words sounded.

"You're welcome," Padmé said with a gentle smile. "If I can't do this for you after years of you laying your life on the line for me, I wouldn't be much of a friend."

"See, this-" she pointed at Padmé, who looked a little taken aback, "-this is why people love you. I know you still don't understand it, but this is why. Well, and your dresses, apparently."

Padmé's expression changed in a heartbeat, irritated and fed up. "Captain Typho told you about the HoloNet crews."

"He did. It'll die down."

"I hope so. I hate being spied on all the time just because I wore a stupid dress!"

At the mention of spying, Sabé shifted in her seat, reminded of the men she'd seen downstairs. Padmé was looking at her, curious, and she relayed the story and her suspicions, as well as her concerns that she wouldn't be able to sneak away later.

Padmé listened calmly, frowning at the thought of Jago and Luma sending spies to follow their daughter. "That's...concerning," she muttered. "But we can find a way around it. I can send Moteé or Teckla down with you, and you can wear one of their cloaks."

"Okay. That could work. Even if the other turbolift is fixed by then, we don't know if they'd be checking there too."

"Better to be safe," Padmé put in.

Sabé fervently agreed. Caution was always better than having a situation to deal with later, especially in cases of this kind.

"I need to be sure," she mused out loud. "I'll be able to see if they're still there when I go to meet..." She trailed off, suddenly remembering that she had somewhere to be. "Oh gods, what's the time?" Glancing at the chrono on Padmé's data pad, she leapt to her feet. "I'm supposed to meet Daedrin at the Senate in fifteen minutes. _Karrabast_ ," she swore.

"You can make it," Padmé assured, standing too. "It shouldn't take you that long to get over there."

"Yes, but I need to get changed. I still look like a pilot."

"You're in the blue room. There's an en suite fresher there."

"Thanks, Padmé."

Picking up her discarded bag, she hurried to make herself presentable, knowing that if she didn't, it would get back to her parents. She didn't want to do anything to make them suspicious. Not so soon.

Thanking the gods for anti-wrinkle fabric, she hauled her best dress out of her bag. It was burnt orange and deep crimson, cinched at the waist with a belt of matching cloth, with the draping sleeves that were so popular on Naboo in recent years. Sometimes Sabé enjoyed feeling elegant and ladylike, but the sleeves got on her nerves, making everyday tasks more difficult than they needed to be. She shimmied into it, hurriedly styling her hair into a simple braid. She had no time for anything more complicated, and she doubted Daedrin would care what her hair looked like. Swapping her boots for heeled shoes, she gave herself a cursory glance in the mirror before leaving the room.

She said a quick farewell to Padmé, then left the apartment, taking the main elevator to the foyer. On the trip down, she wondered how badly the meeting was going to go, whether she'd give her plans away by her lack of enthusiasm about the marriage. There was always the chance that Daedrin was a perfectly nice, decent man, although she knew those were few and far between in politics. Still, even if he _did_ turn out to be nice, she'd break his heart a hundred times over if it meant living her own life.

There were a few things she was curious to know, and only he had the answers, so she supposed it wasn't a huge setback that she couldn't avoid him. She was dreading it all the same, though, fighting the urge to run back to her room in the apartment and hide under the bed covers, like she'd used to do as a child when a storm came.

She smiled to herself, realising she was comparing Daedrin to weather, the one thing that people could never resist grumbling about. It seemed surprisingly apt. If she could keep finding things to amuse herself, the meeting wouldn't be nearly as bad.

 _Or,_ she reflected, stepping out of the lift and spotting her two potential spies still in the foyer, _it could be a whole lot worse._

* * *

 **A/N:** So Sabé's made it to Coruscant. Not somewhere I'd want to live, particularly after Naboo and its prettiness.


	5. The Best Laid Plans

**Chapter Five – The Best Laid Plans.**

 _Four days ago._

Senator Quaine Daedrin did not like being backed into corners, told what to do, or made to feel ridiculed. He'd spent years building up his smooth outer shell. His self-assurance and intelligence ensured that nobody treated him that way. And nobody did. Except Chancellor Palpatine.

In the space of one meeting, the Chancellor had dissolved all his barriers, destroyed his confident exterior, laid his past before him and _blackmailed_ him with it, had made him feel small and insignificant, like a puppet on a string. His anger surged inside him, simmering like acid on metal. Bitterly, he knew that he'd never act on it. Something prevented him, something he wasn't used to feeling: fear.

He'd underestimated Palpatine. He realised that leaders made difficult decisions, but the Chancellor's reasoning for wanting the Order of Sanctuary eliminated seemed...selfish. His cold, unemotional demeanour as he'd given Daedrin his orders chilled the senator to the bone. Palpatine was more than he seemed, and not to be trifled with. That much was clear. Daedrin didn't much care if a group of glorified bodyguards lost their lives at his hand, but he didn't enjoy being manipulated. Still, it was better than being dead. He suspected that that was the alternative.

He'd spent his time since the meeting researching the Order, noting any details about their fighting style or their defining features. It had been very secretive in the first hundred years of its life, but recently it had taken a step out of the shadows. He'd still had to dig for information, but there was more available than he'd initially expected.

Daedrin took several discreet trips to Coruscant's lower levels, putting out feelers, trying to discover if there were Order members on the planet, and who they worked for. His sources got back to him within a day. It was remarkable what a pile of credit chips could do to increase people's productivity.

With a list of names in hand, he made his plans. He needed to take one of them out as soon as possible, to assure Palpatine that he was earning his pay. Despite his anger and his wounded dignity, Daedrin intended to follow his orders to the letter. Ambition was one of his driving forces, but the other was self-preservation, and he was smart enough to know when he was beaten. Palpatine held all the cards. Daedrin suspected that that statement held more truth than even he realised.

On the evening of the intended assassination, he made his preparations, hoping that it hadn't been too long, that he hadn't lost his sharp instincts. He'd studied the property, an apartment in one of the wealthiest districts on the surface, figuring out his entrance and exit routes. It was a small building by Coruscanti standards, only having ten floors. No doubt that was a selling point: exclusivity. It made his job significantly easier, but still he knew it was going to be tough. By far, the most straightforward hit would be on Sabé, the fiancée he barely knew, the woman referred to by her parents as Syrena.

Momentarily sidetracked, he thought of her, wondering if marrying him was actually _her_ request that she'd asked her parents to handle. Jago and Luma had written to him, telling him that they planned to break the news to her in a few days, but that could easily be a lie. He'd been completely taken aback by their initial letter. He hadn't thought of himself as the marrying kind, let alone going about it like _this_ , but he couldn't deny that he was starting to warm up to the idea. Sabé was a striking young woman, bearing a startling resemblance to Padmé Amidala, (that in itself was a plus, in his opinion), and Jago and Luma had told him she was intelligent. He doubted very much that she'd be pleased at being discussed like a piece of real estate, but he was finding it rather amusing. If it worked out, perhaps he'd ask Palpatine if he could keep her alive.

Turning his attention back to the job at hand, he ran over his plan once more. Daedrin preferred to leave as little to chance as possible. He was grateful for the nostalgia that had persuaded him to bring his equipment from Axum. To carry out his assignments, he'd always worn light, flexible armour, topped with a helmet to maintain anonymity. Suiting up

in it once more brought a torrent of memories, some of which he'd rather have kept in the dark. But with it came the familiar mind-set that accompanied a kill, the calm tenseness that kept him on his toes, the heightened reflexes, and the cold, clear head. For the first time, he actually felt capable of the task ahead of him.

Daedrin left his apartment via the balcony, under the cover of relative darkness. Coruscant was never truly dark, being constantly lit by thousands of street signs and vehicle lights, but it was still possible to conceal what you didn't want seen. He'd stowed a small swoop bike in the lounge a few days ago. Smuggling it up in the turbolift had been an experience, and had resulted in one or two awkward questions from his neighbours. (He'd pleaded an interest in mechanics.) The bike had been modified to reach higher altitudes, and Daedrin had been assured that he'd be safe using it so far above the surface. As he fired it up, he reflected cynically that if it wasn't safe, he'd find out fairly soon.

As it was, he had a trouble-free ride to his destination, parking the swoop on the flat roof of the apartment building. There were no viable sniping points nearby, and the swoop was too unstable to be used as a base.

Unnerved by the sheer amount of traffic around him, Daedrin crept to the edge of the roof, not used to being so exposed, hoping his black armour blended with the few shadows that stretched across the building. Working quickly, he secured his rappel cable to a sturdy air conditioning pipe, testing it with a few hard tugs. Glancing down at the penthouse balcony below, he waited.

He'd done his research. He knew that the bodyguard would come out to do a sweep of the terrace at precisely ten-thirty. Checking his chrono, he saw it was ten-twenty-eight. He withdrew a narrow vibroblade from his sleeve, holding it ready.

At ten-twenty-nine he hopped over the edge of the roof, swiftly rappelling the short distance to hover above the balcony. Flipping himself upside down, he interlocked his ankles around the wire, holding himself still.

At ten-thirty the balcony door slid open, and a young woman with vivid red hair stepped out. She was garbed in a security uniform, and wore an old-fashioned vibrosword across her back. She stood directly beneath him, just out of reach, and Daedrin froze, knowing he'd have to abort if she spotted him.

Business-like, she checked the edges of the balcony, looking a little bored, as if she really didn't expect to find anything. Her greatest mistake was not looking up.

She crossed to the other side of the balcony, her back to him as she completed her checks. Daedrin lowered himself down, flipping right side up, his boots hitting the floor as silently as he could manage. The ongoing traffic helped cover the noise. Blade poised, he crept closer.

Lunging, he seized her, cutting a gash on her throat, recoiling as she rammed her elbow in his stomach. She spun, aiming a kick at his hand, evidently trying to knock the blade away. Her green eyes were wide with shock and pain, the blood dripping down her neck. It should have been a fatal slash. Daedrin grimaced, wondering if he was getting sloppy.

They traded blows on the balcony. She was clearly the better fighter, but Daedrin had his armour to protect him, plus the greater strength that the luck of the biological draw had given him. Wrestling, he pressed her back against the railing, hands around her wounded neck. Her fingers scrabbled at the bottom of his helmet, trying to pull it off. Glancing sideways, he spotted the spy-eye security camera above the terrace door. Smart.

Daedrin leapt backwards, deciding to change tactic. She'd managed to raise the visor at the front of the helmet, but still it hid everything but his eyes. He didn't have time to fix it, however, as she came at him again, aiming another kick. He grabbed her leg, leaving her hopping inelegantly, and punched her in the face. She reeled back, and he threw the vibroblade. It buried itself in her chest, and she looked down at it hazily, her expression vaguely surprised. She collapsed to her knees, a trickle of blood leaking out the corner of her mouth, mingling with the bruises on her face.

"Naharé!" came a shout from the apartment.

He turned sharply. The dignitary stood there, wrapped in a dressing gown, looking horror-struck. Daedrin dived for the bodyguard's blaster, snatching it out of her holster and aiming it at the plump politician beyond the door. He fired, purposely missing, and the man scurried off, yelling at the top of his lungs. Daedrin dropped the blaster, yanked his vibroblade out of the woman's chest, and activated the reverse rappel. He shot up towards the roof, leaving the Order member slumped on the balcony, the look of astonishment frozen forever on her face.

Daedrin pulled himself up onto the roof, released the cable, and sprinted for his swoop bike. Firing it up, he shot away from the scene, taking a long, roundabout route back to his apartment to make sure that he hadn't been followed. He dragged the bike inside, hiding it in a closet, reflecting, as he struggled with it, that he needed a different base of operations. He'd look into renting a storage facility somewhere, perhaps. He certainly couldn't continue working out of the apartment when he brought Sabé back to it.

Daedrin retreated to the fresher, scrubbing the bodyguard's blood off his armour. He'd done it, and successfully, but he wasn't happy. It should have been a clean kill, no wasting time with close-quarter combat. He met his own gaze in the mirror, taking in his thin-lipped look of disapproval. Next time, he'd do better.

As well as a base of operations, he was also going to need help. An accomplice taking on some of the work would allow him to have watertight alibis. He'd put in appearances at the theatre or a restaurant, make sure he was seen there. Obviously, he did not intend to raise suspicion, but life had taught him to be cautious.

Palpatine had made it quite clear that the job was entirely in Daedrin's hands, and that he couldn't expect any assistance at all. It was extremely frustrating, as he felt sure that the Chancellor had a list of helpful contacts as long as his arm. Yet, despite his annoyance, he could understand the man's need to distance himself from what he'd asked Daedrin to do. He would have done the same in a similar position.

He'd need to speak to his own contacts again, get them to discreetly look into finding someone suitable to work with him. In the meantime, he'd carry on alone, and simply make sure that the next hits went a lot smoother. Still, he enjoyed a small feeling of accomplishment. He hoped Palpatine would be pleased.

* * *

 _Present day._

Even with all her rushing around, Sabé was a few minutes late to the meeting. Sacrificing a burst of extra speed for the sake of dignity, she walked sedately up the carpeted steps to the grand foyer. A popular tourist destination, the public-access sections of the Senate were always busy, making it difficult to get anywhere in a hurry. As she crossed the foyer, tagging on behind a school party, she spotted Senator Daedrin up ahead, waiting for her.

She hung back for a moment, observing him. He seemed to be waiting patiently, his placid expression suggesting that his thoughts were far away, on other matters entirely. As she watched, he tilted his head from side to side. Most likely he was simply stretching his neck muscles, but the fluid movement reminded her of a snake, and made her feel uneasy. She scrutinised him in detail, trying to read him, trying to find even the smallest hint of what his intentions were. A tall man of slim build, he walked with subtle presence and a vague sense of entitlement. His hair was dark blond, meticulously styled to look casually slicked back. He favoured muted colours, which seemed to emphasise the paleness of his complexion, and his clothes were expensive without being ostentatious. His features were striking, if not classically handsome, with sharply slanting cheekbones, an aristocratic nose and intelligent mismatched eyes.

Quashing her nerves, she approached him. He turned as she got nearer, greeting her with a smile. Reaching for her hand, he pressed a courteous kiss to the back of it. She fought the urge to tug it out of his grip, uncomfortable with such a forward greeting.

"It's lovely to see you again, Syrena," he began, his tone nothing but politeness and charm.

"Sabé, please," she told him. It was bad enough when her parents called her by her birth name, but she couldn't handle hearing it from a virtual stranger.

"Sabé," he repeated with a nod of acknowledgement. "I must apologise."

She let the uncertainty show on her face, unsure what he was trying to accomplish with an apology so early in the relationship. "For what?"

He looked genuinely troubled, his brow furrowed in thought. "I'm sorry. I'm aware that this match is of your parents' making. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

Unsure how to respond, Sabé simply nodded. She didn't really know what to expect from him, and she was finding everything surprising. It was making her edgy. She didn't like feeling as if she wasn't in control.

Unruffled by her silence, Daedrin shot her another smile. His smiles were pleasant enough, not quite reaching his eyes, but she'd seen enough politicians smiling to be used to that.

"Shall we get some lunch?" he pressed on. "Then we can talk. I don't think you said a single word to me the last time I saw you!"

"Handmaidens are seen and not heard," she explained politely, unimpressed by his attempts at levity. "Lunch sounds good. Lead on."

She took the arm he offered, and they made their way to one of the nearby restaurants in the Senate District. The silence hung awkwardly. Then Daedrin chose to break it.

"I noticed that you carried a sword," he commented as they walked, his tone conversational.

Sabé raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. As a Royal Handmaiden, she wore a sword on one hip and a blaster on the other, and kept both out of sight beneath the flowing fabric of her cloaks. He must have caught a glimpse of it as she'd passed a data pad to the Queen.

 _So he notices the small details_ , she thought to herself. _Definitely something worth knowing._

"When I found out that Queen Neeyutnee was making a visit," he went on, "I spent some time researching Naboo. If you carry a sword that must make you a member of the Order of Sanctuary."

Sabé still wasn't sure that the increasing attention the Order was getting was a good thing. It made her feel uncomfortable to talk about it. People liked to celebrate the achievements it had to its name, but personally she preferred to stay in the shadows. She could do her job much better from there.

"You did your research well," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "The Order never used to be so well known. Its members keep to themselves."

He shot her yet another smile, which she caught in her peripheral vision. Really, he needed to tone them down. She doubted very much that she truly inspired so many smiles in the man.

"It's an honour to meet one of you," he told her, a touch of respect in his words.

Sabé acknowledged it with a nod, not trusting herself to reply to such a deferential statement, especially since she wasn't sure how genuine it was. Generally speaking, she didn't trust politicians.

When they reached the restaurant, they were seated at a table by the window, which offered an impressive view of the Senate building. Mostly they talked about unimportant things, a light conversation that Sabé handled with ease. He asked her questions, apparently trying to get to know her, and she answered as best as she was able without giving too much away. She was never comfortable talking about herself. Daedrin, on the other hand, was very good at it, telling her all sorts of things about his life that she really wasn't interested in hearing.

He continued to be courteous throughout the meal, but Sabé was still too tense to finish her food. Despite his graciousness and charisma, she found him impossible to fathom, and it worried her immensely, wondering what he had to hide. He would have made a brilliant Sabacc player. The angular planes of his face registered nothing that he did not want to show.

Her growing unease aside, she was glad that she had been forced to come out with him, despite the complaints she'd made. It had given her a chance to try and read him. She hadn't been terribly successful, but even that was useful to know, as nobody was that unreadable without a good deal of intention. There was one burning question, however, that she simply had to get an answer to.

"May I ask you something?" she ventured during a lull in the conversation, moving her food around her plate with her fork.

"Of course, Sabé."

"Why did you agree to this? To my parents' proposition, I mean. You're not from Naboo, you have no obligations whatsoever, so why?"

He seemed to consider the question carefully, taking a slow sip of his wine as he pondered. His face remained placid, guarded. "Is it so strange that a man would jump at the chance to be married to a beautiful woman such as yourself?" he answered at length.

She tried not to scoff. She didn't want to hear comments that belonged in cheap romance novels.

"Yes," she said bluntly, "frankly, it is. Most people don't get married to people they barely know, and those that do often get divorced soon after."

"I'm not most people," Daedrin remarked, possibly trying to seem mysterious. It was just annoying.

Sabé shook her head, hoping her disapproval was plain to see. "Damn politicians, you always side-step questions."

He gave a laugh at that. "True. My apologies."

"I don't want your apologies, I want you to answer." She was starting to lose patience.

His gaze was calculating and unwavering as he stared at her across the table. "Very well," he said, swirling the last of his wine around the bottom of the glass. "You intrigued me."

Sabé lost what was left of her polite demeanour. "Oh please. Don't give me that. You were in the same room as me for an hour, you noticed me for maybe half, and we never spoke."

"You're rather cynical, aren't you?" he commented, frowning.

"Exceedingly so."

"Hmm."

"Look," she said, leaning forward in a business-like way, "I know that you're trying to charm me, and I appreciate the effort, but at this stage in the relationship what I would really appreciate is your honesty."

Daedrin raised an eyebrow, and appeared to decide to humour her, rattling out facts quickly and without much emotion. "I'm not a sentimental man. I don't expect to fall head over heels in love with the woman of my dreams. But I find the idea of companionship appealing, especially if the companion in question is a woman of rare beauty. Such an arrangement would be hard to find the usual way, so when your parents contacted me, naturally I agreed. But what I said was true: you _did_ intrigue me."

Sabé gave a satisfied nod. "There, that wasn't so difficult, was it?"

"Oh, it was. More than you know. It is not the natural state of any politician to tell the absolute truth."

"So I gather."

"Is that the only reaction you're going to give?" He actually sounded rather surprised.

"For now." She was adept at being inscrutable herself.

Daedrin laughed, and drained the last few drops of wine in his glass. "You are…a very…unique woman, Sabé. I look forward to getting to know you better."

"Thank you," she replied simply. "If you'll excuse me, Senator Amidala is expecting me back." Sabé got to her feet. She had heard all she needed to, and she was completely out of good-humour. She didn't want to say anything she'd regret. "Thank you for lunch."

Daedrin rose too, not seeming bothered by the fact that she was leaving him to pick up the tab. "You're very welcome. How long are you here for before you return to Naboo?"

"Only a week."

"So I can see you again?"

Sabé nodded, although she did not intend to be found by the time the week was up. "I've promised tomorrow to Padmé though. We have a lot of catching up that is shamefully overdue."

"Of course, I understand," he said smoothly. "Perhaps the next day then? Shall I contact you at Senator Amidala's?"

Unable to see any feasible way of sparing Padmé the bother, she reluctantly agreed. "By all means. Goodbye, Senator Daedrin."

"Quaine, please," he requested, once again smiling disarmingly.

Answering automatically, she repeated, "Quaine."

"Goodbye, Sabé. Until next time."

Fervently hoping there wouldn't be a next time, Sabé returned his smile, spun on her heel, and left the restaurant. Every step away from him was like a breath of fresh air. She suspected that it was not so much the man himself that disturbed her, more what he represented. But there was something about him that made her skin crawl. He was _too_ charming, too courteous. It all came across as horribly false. She didn't know him well enough to confirm whether he was genuine or not, (and she accepted that she was inclined to think badly of him because of the marriage), but she couldn't help finding him insincere.

On the air taxi ride back to Padmé's apartment, she reflected on the meeting. She wasn't sure what to make of his answer to her question about why he'd agreed to marry her. It had a ring of truth to it, but she wasn't completely convinced. Perhaps it simply was that an arranged marriage was less hassle than finding a bride the usual way.

The turbolift in the speeder lot was working again when she arrived at the Senatorial Apartment Complex, and she took it straight up to the top floor, emerging in the short corridor to the front door.

Padmé was sitting in her office writing a report when she got back, but soon set it aside to ask for the details of the meeting, not bothering to hide her interest. Sabé relayed everything as faithfully as she could, pausing only to answer her friend's questions.

"I just couldn't read him," Sabé finished up with a growl of frustration. "I think I probably did persuade him to tell me the truth at one point, but as for the rest, who knows?"

"So you didn't like him?" Padmé asked, her brow creased in a worried frown.

"Not exactly. I didn't have cause to _dis_ like him, but..." Sabé shrugged, still unsure. "I didn't trust him, not an inch. The sooner I can put my plan into action, the better."

"Were those two men still downstairs when you came in?"

She'd momentarily forgotten about them, and she slumped in her seat, disgruntled. "I didn't see them, I came in through the speeder lot, but they were there when I left."

Padmé bit the inside of her cheek, considering something. "I can't even ask security to throw them out," she said, sounding irritated. "They'd just wait somewhere outside. Besides, we don't know for sure what they're here for."

"I know, I thought the same."

"You'll have to disguise yourself as a handmaiden when you go. Just in case. Or even a security officer."

Sabé frowned a little, trying to recall something. "You don't have any female officers at the moment though, do you?"

Padmé pondered that, shrugging. "Well, you could tuck your hair up under the hat, they might not notice you're a woman if they don't get a good look at you."

Sabé nodded in agreement, angry that she was being forced to take such extreme measures. Her parents were trying to rule her life even here. Potentially. It was suffocating, and instilled an urgency in her that the logical part of her brain thought was disproportionate. But even knowing that didn't stop her reacting, didn't stop her feeling that she simply _had_ to act _now_. She _had_ to get moving, _had_ to talk to Obi-Wan, as soon as possible.

Sabé wasn't sure what expression had made its way onto her face, because Padmé leaned forward over her desk, her dark eyes full of concern.

"Are you okay? I mean, really okay?"

"Of course," she answered automatically, and Padmé pressed her lips together sternly, clearly not believing her for a second.

"Sabé…" the senator began, her tone distinctly disapproving.

"What?" Sabé said defensively.

"You can't kid a kidder."

Although she was immediately curious at the odd choice of phrase, Sabé bit her tongue, knowing full well that Padmé wouldn't let her change the subject. She made a mental note to raise it at a later date, if it was still relevant.

For her friend's sake, she tried to put how she felt into words. "I'm…uneasy, I guess. I just want all of this over with, so I can get back to some kind of normal. I know it's not going to be as it was…but it will be better than this."

Padmé nodded, seeming to comprehend a little of what she was feeling. "So, that's your plan for tomorrow, is it? Go to-"

"No," Sabé interrupted. "I'm going today. Now. When I've changed, I mean."

"Now?" Padmé repeated in surprise. "You're really that worried?"

"I…seem to be. Yes." She shrugged helplessly, unable to really explain why it bothered her so much. "I just want it sorted," she finished up. "I won't be able to relax until I've secured a way to avoid this arrangement, and I really don't want another sleepless night."

Padmé looked concerned, but seemed to understand. "Well, okay, if that's what you want."

"I'll feel more at ease," Sabé clarified. "I'm going to get changed. I'd rather leave while I've still got some afternoon left."

"Okay. Let me know when you're going," Padmé said, already turning back to her work.

Sabé repressed a smile. Her friend never managed to put unfinished paperwork aside for long. She'd heard from Padmé's sister, Sola, that as a child she'd done the same with her homework too.

"I'll stick my head around the door," she assured. "Where's Gregar? He should be able to lend me a security uniform."

Probably without realising she was doing it, Padmé's head shot back up at the mention of his name. "He's most likely in his office. You know your way around, don't you?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Although calling this place an apartment is stretching it slightly!"

"I know," Padmé agreed, wrinkling her nose. "Why the Council of Governors thinks I need this much space, I'll never understand. Ask Threepio if you get lost, he's here somewhere."

Sabé nodded, although she hoped to avoid the fussy protocol droid if she could. He was always quite hard work. She made her way to the large corridor branching off the marble lounge. It was lined with doors, leading to a multitude of rooms: the main fresher, three rooms for handmaidens and security, two guest rooms, and the Chief of Security's office. It was an unusual arrangement for the office to be in the senatorial apartment, but Padmé had her own on the upper level, and had always said that she didn't want the room going to waste. Gregar had his own apartment on the floor below, but it was tiny and functional, containing only the essentials.

Sabé peered in through the open office door, taking in how tidy and organised the little room was. Another Panaka trait that Gregar had inherited. The man himself was sitting at his desk, head bent over a data pad. He looked up after a moment, alerted by her halting footsteps.

"Not interrupting, am I?" she asked.

Gregar sat back in his seat, stretching his neck. "No. I'm just writing a reference for an officer who's leaving. Why?"

Sabé entered the room properly, perching on the edge of the desk. "I need your help."

He raised an eyebrow, his expression openly curious. "With?"

She summed up everything as briefly as she could, explaining her plan to leave in disguise. He waited for her to finish before he spoke, listening with a furrowed brow.

"That's doable," he said confidently. "But are you sure that hiding your hair under a hat will be enough to fool those men downstairs?"

"From a distance…I hope so. I just need enough time to get to an air taxi, and if I'm walking next to you or one of your officers…" She trailed off, shrugging.

Gregar looked sceptical, but nodded. "Well, we can but try."

"Thank you."

"I'd better come down with you. If you're walking next to someone in the exact same uniform, the differences will be more apparent."

Sabé paused, a flash of guilt crossing her face. "I hadn't considered that."

"Lucky you consulted a professional, then," he said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, smirking.

"Give me a minute," Gregar told her, getting to his feet. "I'll check the spare uniforms and see if we have one small enough. Pretty sure we've had some recruits almost as skinny as you."

He left the office, and Sabé heard his brisk footsteps echoing down the corridor. She waited there patiently, idly doodling on a piece of scrap flimsi, and soon he was back, a security uniform hooked over one arm.

"What's that?" he asked, craning his neck to look at her drawing.

"It's a nexu," she replied, sounding affronted that he hadn't guessed.

He adopted an incredulous tone. "That's a nexu?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, hopping off the desk. Gregar laughed, handing over the uniform.

"Here you go, smallest I could find."

"Thanks." Sabé held it up against herself, looking down at it in scrutiny. "Should be okay. Let me go and find out. I'll be back."

"Sure."

In the privacy of her room, she swapped her elegant dress for the uniform. It was a little big, baggy in some areas, but nothing too noticeable. Once she cinched the waist with her own belt, and tugged on her own boots, it looked fine. Her slender, athletic figure helped sell the deception, as she had always been lacking the soft curves that other women liked to flaunt. She wound her braid into a crown on the top of her head, securing it with the hat, which she pulled down firmly. Studying her appearance in the mirror, she decided that her disguise was passable, but wouldn't hold up to close examination. Her face was too feminine, even without make-up.

She strapped her blaster to her hip, looking longingly at her sword, which she knew she had to leave behind. It was too much of a giveaway. Although she found herself using her blaster more often in practical situations, having the sword by her side made her feel better, more confident. It was a kind of good luck charm. Reluctantly, she left it lying on the bed, and she headed back to Gregar's office.

He didn't laugh when he saw her, which she took as a good sign. Perhaps the plan wasn't as ridiculous as it seemed. They left the office together, heading to the upper level so that Sabé could say goodbye to Padmé. Gregar hovered outside while she did that, his expression neutral once again.

Padmé raised her eyebrows when she saw Sabé's new outfit, seeming surprised. "This might work," she said, her tone betraying how sceptical she'd been.

"Guess we'll find out." Sabé shrugged, then pulled her friend into a hug. "Thank you for everything you've done."

"I only wish I could do more."

Sabé smiled as she drew back. Typical Padmé. "You're going to fight against the law, that's enough."

The senator smiled briefly, not looking convinced. "Do you have any idea how long you'll be?"

"No, no idea. Don't worry though, I'll be fine."

Padmé pressed her lips together in her favourite judgmental expression, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Don't worry? Are you crazy?"

Sabé considered the question, answering honestly. "Probably."

Padmé shook her head, sighing. "Be careful."

"I will," she assured. "I'll be in touch." She turned to leave, but glanced back in expectation when Padmé said her name.

"You're, uh…you're going to the Jedi Temple, aren't you?"

Unsure how to react, whether to lie or come clean, Sabé froze until she realised her silence answered for her.

Nodding, Padmé didn't look at all astonished, something that Sabé found curious. "Good luck."

"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it."

Shooting her friend a tiny, humourless smile, Sabé exited the office. She felt more in control now that she was actually doing something, but she was inescapably nervous, and she wanted it all over and forgotten. Squaring her shoulders, she left the apartment with Gregar, determined to think positively. It would all work out. It _had_ to.

* * *

After Sabé departed, Padmé sat back in her desk chair, pondering, trying to work out what the outcome of her friend's plan would be. The fact that she would turn to Obi-Wan Kenobi was not surprising. The two shared a firm friendship, maintained over many years through letter writing. Padmé had always recognised how significant it was for Sabé, how she thought more of the charismatic Jedi Master than she seemed to realise. Padmé had said nothing, not wanting to make Sabé feel awkward. Now that the handmaiden was on her way to ask the question she must ask, Padmé was especially glad she hadn't mentioned it. She knew Obi-Wan well enough to surmise that he would want to help if he could, but whether he would agree to a marriage of convenience was anyone's guess. Attachment was firmly against the rules of the Jedi Code, and marriage was almost the very definition of it.

She leaned her chin on her hand, staring unseeingly at the writing on her data pad, hoping that, against the odds, things would go right for Sabé. She didn't deserve what Jago and Luma were putting her through.

"Report going well, M'lady?"

Padmé glanced up at the sound of Gregar's voice. He nodded pointedly at the abandoned data pad on the desk.

She kept her voice even and polite. "Very well, thank you, Captain."

He was Captain Typho out loud, but somehow had never stopped being Gregar in her head. She wondered if she was Padmé in his.

"Did Sabé get away all right?" she asked.

"I think so."

"And the spies?"

"Still there." He looked disgruntled, his forehead creased in a frown. "One was outside reading a holo mag. I didn't see the other one. It's beyond suspicious now, if you ask me."

Padmé nodded, uneasy. "I agree. I could speak to Jago and Luma, but I'm not sure that Sabé would want me to. Not at this stage, anyway."

"I would advise caution," Gregar put in. "We should do nothing until she's settled, or we could put her plans in danger."

"You're right, but doing nothing goes against my instincts."

He smiled then, just a brief flicker across his face. "Mine too. Do you think Sabé's plan will work?"

"I've just been wondering that myself," she admitted, leaning her chin on her hand.

"He's a Jedi, so that's a huge complication right there." He didn't bother to curb his words. Padmé knew full well his opinion of her Jedi husband. "But she doesn't trust anyone else enough with this."

Neither of them said it, but it would have been far more logical for Sabé to marry Gregar. But Padmé knew she never would, out of respect for her, and for the fact that Gregar had been in love with her almost from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Sabé had known it before _she_ had. And Padmé's feelings for Gregar had been the cause of the senator's only major argument with Sabé, in which the handmaiden took Gregar's side and refused to believe Padmé's insistence that she didn't love him.

Padmé always tried to keep her thoughts away from those heated words. They made her feel guilty. She had since begun to fear that her friend had been right. Whenever she looked at Gregar she would quash the stirring of old feelings. It didn't matter anymore anyway. She was a year married to Anakin. Gregar had accepted that, doing his duty diligently as always, but maintaining formality in his manner of address to her.

They never spoke about the past. Their working relationship was close and functional, but lacked the warmth of the friendship they'd had when Padmé was Queen. With Sabé with them again it had almost felt like a return to those days.

"Master Kenobi will want to help," Gregar said, breaking through her thoughts. "But in what capacity, I don't know."

"I came to the same conclusion," she told him, keeping her focus. "I guess we'll just have to wait and find out."

He glanced up, meeting her gaze with his single good eye. Padmé knew what he was thinking. The side of him that was susceptible to bitterness was considering remarking on how well-practiced he was at waiting. She paused for the barbed comment. She expected them now and then, on the rare occasions that he punished her for falling for Anakin. She deserved it, she supposed. He was only human, and he had daily proof of the fact that another man was married to the woman he loved. He opened his mouth to speak, and she braced herself.

"Don't worry," he said, "she'll contact you as soon as she can."

Padmé nodded, inwardly sighing in relief. She found his judgment particularly hard to deal with. It was fortunate that he was gracious enough to spare her from it where he could. She reached for her data pad, pulling up the documents she had been working on. Sitting dwelling on budding regrets was doing her no good at all.

"I'd like to be alone, please," she spoke up, her tone formal. "Send Moteé up with some caf."

He bowed, his expression placid and unreadable as always. "Of course, M'lady."

"Thank you," she said to his back as he strode away, "…Gregar."

* * *

A/N: I'm off work for two weeks now. Yaaay! This means I may be persuaded to get another update in next weekend. Mostly I will be catching up on sleep and enjoying not being on my feet for nine hours a day.

Next chapter will feature our favourite Jedi Master. This makes me happy.

Fan cast:

Daedrin - Young David Bowie


	6. Securing a Future

**A/N:** Hello. It finally rained! This is big news. Weather is a very important topic in the UK, especially when it's been horrible, melty weather. I'm so grateful I haven't been at work. It's bad enough not having air con at home, but to work in it's miserable. Anyway, onwards. Obi-Wan is here! Hooray! Be warned, though, this is a loooong chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter Six – Securing a Future.**

On the upper side of Coruscant's expansive mid levels, CoCo Town provided a middle ground between the affluent upper levels and the sprawl of the seedy underworld. It attracted visitors from both directions, having both a theatre and a disreputable cantina within several feet of each other. Neither establishment did very well, as there were better cantinas below and better theatres above, and most Coruscant residents knew that.

However, being in the mid levels had its advantages, one of which was a healthy trade in information. CoCo Town's citizens heard gossip from the underworld _and_ the upper levels, and turned a profit selling it on. No one in CoCo Town had more to offer than Dexter Jettster, but he chose to earn a living through his diner, only passing information to people he liked. Fortunately for Obi-Wan Kenobi, he was one of those people.

The Jedi Master found himself once again seeking Dex's help following an unhelpful trip to the archives. It seemed like a long shot, but then so had the sabre-dart that had led him to Kamino. Dex was full of seemingly-obscure knowledge.

Obi-Wan walked the quickest route to Dex's Diner, enjoying the sickly burst of sunshine that had pierced the clouds. Coruscant did not really have seasons as such, simply days that were more cloudy than others, and warmer sunshine for several months of the year. CoCo Town was busy as usual, but nobody bothered him. Most people respected the Jedi, although there had been growing hostility among the population since the war began. Many felt that the Jedi shouldn't be as involved as they were. Obi-Wan understood why they thought that way, but it was natural for the Jedi to be involved, especially considering that the Separatists were being led by at least one Sith, possibly two.

Dex's Diner was a small, one-level hut of a building by the side of one of the main thoroughfares through the district. Seeing it again made Obi-Wan smile pensively, taking in its familiar dull chrome walls and narrow windows, everything unchanged by the chaos that had altered so much across the galaxy. It never changed, just as Dex never changed. He was one of the most reliable friends Obi-Wan had.

The diner was quiet following the lunchtime rush, only a handful of patrons sitting in the booths that lined the front wall. Dex was leaning on the bar, two of his arms folded, another scribbling over a hard copy of the menu, making notes for future additions. A brown-skinned Besilisk whose large frame indicated his love of food, Dex was the fastest cook in CoCo Town, always using his four arms to prepare meals as quickly as possible, so as to not keep people waiting. It was not the healthiest food on the planet, but it was filling and reasonably-priced, earning him a decent living.

"Those darned archives of yours!" Dex thundered as he looked up, his gruff voice full of amusement.

Obi-Wan blinked, briefly startled. "Hello to you too, Dex. You can't possibly know why I'm here."

"You've got that look on your face," Dex stated, folding his other set of arms.

"What look?"

"Your 'I need your help' look."

Obi-Wan chuckled, seating himself at the bar. "I see. I must try and be less conspicuous."

"What you must try and do," Dex told him firmly, jabbing a finger for emphasis, "is update your damn archives with information that is actually useful!"

Obi-Wan held back a laugh, imagining the outrage on Jocasta Nu's face if she could hear Dex's words. The archivist was very proud of the records, often to be heard blaming the analysis droids or external sources for any errors reported.

"Cup of caf?" asked Hermione, the diner's sole human waitress. She was standing guard at the heated caf pot, picking lumps of an unidentified food substance out of her blonde ponytail, a disgusted look on her face.

"Yes, thank you," Obi-Wan said with a smile. Nodding at her hair, he added, "What happened to you?"

"Nothing I can't handle," she answered through gritted teeth, glaring at the wheeled waitress droid that was busily collecting cups from the booths.

Obi-Wan had heard Dex reflecting on the bizarre rivalry between his two staff members, stating that the droid was often the jealous one, falling back on spiteful tricks to try and discredit Hermione. Fortunately, the plucky young woman was a favourite with customers, and did not view the droid's pettiness as anything more than an inconvenience.

She washed her hands, then served the caf, pouring a large cup for Dex too. Placing Obi-Wan's cup in front of him, she winked.

"Here you go, hon."

"Thank you."

Casual flirting was basically in her job description, and Obi-Wan knew that it was no cause for concern. Still, he always chose not to acknowledge it directly.

"So," Dex said, setting his menu aside and fixing Obi-Wan with a knowing stare, "what can I do for you?"

Obi-Wan took a sip of his drink, then set the cup down and drew a small data pad from a pouch on his belt. Calling up an image, he pushed it across the bar so that Dex could see it.

"Have you ever seen this symbol before?" he asked. "I'm following up a lead. It could be nothing, but I have to check."

Dex turned his beady eyes to the data pad, studying the image of a tattoo on the back of a human woman's shoulder. He raised one of his arms, cupping his bulbous chin in his hand as he considered.

Obi-Wan watched him examine it, searching his friend's face for any sign of recognition. "The archives came up with several examples of similar symbols from various worlds and cultures," he explained, "but nothing exactly like this."

"Hmm," Dex rumbled thoughtfully, not taking his eyes from the picture. "I'm…not a hundred percent certain, but…I think what you got here is the symbol of the Order of Sanctuary."

Obi-Wan frowned, folding his arms on the bar, studying the image upside down. "I'm familiar with the name…but I'm not sure why."

"I don't know much about them, I gotta be honest. But they're a group of warriors that hail from Naboo."

Understanding dawned, and Obi-Wan's eyes widened as he began to put the pieces together, realising why he knew the name.

"That senator friend of yours…" Dex prompted.

"Padmé Amidala?"

"Yeah. She should have a few Order members among her handmaidens. She'd probably be able to help you out more than I can."

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, already thinking of Sabé. "Oh, I think I can do better than that."

Dex laughed good-naturedly, a grin stretching his wide mouth. "No doubt. You Jedi are better at everything, of course. Except updating your damn archives."

"Will you let that go?" Obi-Wan sighed in mock exasperation, reaching for his caf cup.

"Nope," Dex replied smugly, popping the P.

Nearby, busy cleaning the surfaces, Hermione giggled softly.

Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling, and took another sip of caf. While he finished his drink, he and Dex chatted about less important things, reminiscing about the past, and catching up on what each of them had been doing since they last saw each other.

"How's that apprentice of yours?" Dex asked him, stirring sweetener into his own drink.

"He's not my apprentice anymore," Obi-Wan told him, feeling a touch of pride despite knowing better. "He passed the trials a few months ago. He has a Padawan of his own now."

"Really?" Dex said, brows raised in delighted surprise. "How's that going for him?"

"Well, I think," Obi-Wan told him truthfully. "It's hard work, but I think it's good for him. The responsibility has made him a little more mature."

 _A little_ , he kept to himself, _but still not enough._

Anakin still hadn't learned not to react emotionally, despite experiencing many different consequences of his reckless behaviour. Often it was because he cared too much, always wanting to save everyone. And often he _did_ , which made Obi-Wan feel callous about reprimanding him, because saving lives was a good thing no matter the circumstances. It would be an admirable trait in anyone else, but it was a hindrance for a Jedi. At best it was distracting, at worst...it was a path to the Dark Side.

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon had been right to push for Anakin's training. He'd been too old, he'd already learned love, attachment, anger, pride, all things perfectly normal for a regular childhood, but forbidden to a Jedi student. And they were hard to unlearn, deeply rooted, almost instinctive. Obi-Wan had done his best to teach Anakin to move past them, but he constantly questioned his success. Anakin was an exemplary warrior, but not quite a good Jedi. Not yet. He still had much to learn, but Obi-Wan could do no more than he'd already done. There were some lessons that Anakin had to learn for himself. Obi-Wan was proud of him, of how far he'd come, but he worried too. Almost constantly.

He'd hoped that teaching Ahsoka Tano would have helped Anakin develop, and it had to a certain extent. The girl was more than capable, coping admirably with the responsibilities the war had thrown on her, but Anakin's casual disregard for rules and, occasionally, Jedi elders had rubbed off on her as well. Obi-Wan had been concerned about that happening. Ahsoka was at an impressionable age, and she was already showing signs of inheriting Anakin's arrogance. He only hoped that she would overcome it. And that Anakin would too.

"Good for him," Dex said warmly, breaking through Obi-Wan's thoughts. "Give him my regards, will ya?"

Shaking his melancholy reflections aside, Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course."

Realising that he'd delayed long enough, he drained the last of his caf, set the cup down on the bar, and got to his feet.

"Thank you, but I must get back," he said with a smile.

Dex fixed him with a sharp look. "You know, the last time I gave you information, a war started."

"I had noticed," he answered dryly.

"Well, just… _warn_ me next time, okay?"

Obi-Wan chuckled at the words. "I'll try. I really do appreciate your help."

Dex nodded to him, grinning. "Any time, buddy, any time."

Obi-Wan overpaid for his drink, as he always did when Dex gave him information, said his round of goodbyes, and left the diner.

A short while later, as he ascended the iconic steps of the Jedi Temple, he turned his thoughts to Sabé. Although she'd never said so, it seemed likely that she was part of this Order of Sanctuary, and he knew she'd probably help him with his enquiries if he asked her. He was due to write her a letter, but he doubted the Council would want to wait for a reply. As soon as he returned to his quarters, he would call her.

It was a simple thing to do, but it seemed…odd somehow. He and Sabé never really contacted each other except for the letters. She would be surprised to hear from him, perhaps worried, until he explained. She always made sure he knew what frequency she could be reached at, however, so it stood to reason that his call would not be unwelcome. He was over-thinking it far too much, more than was probably normal. It was puzzling.

He was pulled out of his reflections as he crossed the main entrance hall of the Temple, interrupted by a dispute that was occurring between a visitor and one of the security droids. The public could visit the entrance hall, but to reach any of the chambers in its depths one had to get past the welcoming droids that guarded it.

The droid's falsely sympathetic tone drifted across the foyer, cutting through Obi-Wan's thought process.

"I'm very sorry, miss," it was saying to a woman wearing a security uniform that was slightly too big for her, her dark hair hanging in a long braid down her back. "I cannot allow you to–"

"Dammit," she snapped dramatically, gesturing with the hat she was holding, "my whole future depends on this!"

Stepping forward to intervene, quashing his irritation, Obi-Wan asked calmly, "Is there a problem here?"

The woman's shoulders tensed at his words. She turned, meeting his gaze with wide, dark eyes. Sabé. Her mouth was open slightly, frozen, as if whatever she'd been about to say had suddenly escaped her head.

For a brief, surreal moment Obi-Wan wondered if his desire to speak to her had somehow conjured her into being. The ridiculous thought vanished as quickly as it came, and he looked at her in surprise. Perhaps she was there regarding the case.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, concerned. "Is everything all right?"

"This lady would like to speak to you, Master Kenobi," the droid pointed out unnecessarily. "She says it's urgent."

"Evidently," he commented, studying her, taking in her ill-fitting outfit, and the strange half-relieved, half-worried expression on her face.

She looked a little awkward under his scrutiny, dropping her gaze to the floor, then forcibly raising it again.

"Can we go somewhere quiet to talk?" she said, sounding almost embarrassed.

Curious about what she had to say, wondering why she seemed so edgy, he nodded at once. "Of course. Come this way."

He escorted her out of the entrance hall, into the wide, spacious hallways beyond. She walked half a step behind him, looking around at the vast, impressive architecture with visible awe. Obi-Wan almost smiled. He never failed to appreciate the majesty of the place he was fortunate enough to call home, and somehow he liked seeing someone else admire it too. It was easy to lose perspective when a view was seen every day. Only seeing it again, through an outsider's eyes, could reinforce how magnificent the Temple was.

The Temple didn't have many rooms nearby that were suitable for casual visitors. Most of them were in use, but he felt sure that there would be a vacant meditation room. His assumption proved correct, and he waved Sabé inside, apologising for the unusual setting.

She shrugged off the apology, more coolly polite than he remembered. She was distracted, he could sense that. Her Force signature radiated her anger, distress and nervousness. Outwardly she had it under control, but he could feel it bubbling beneath the surface. Something had gone drastically wrong for her since her last letter.

He'd been forbidden to speak about the case to anyone not involved. Until he knew the reason for Sabé's visit, he couldn't start that conversation. He hoped that _she_ would. Obi-Wan never enjoyed concealing truths.

They both sat down on low circular stools. The late afternoon light filtered in through slatted blinds, creating a dim yet peaceful atmosphere. Despite the tranquillity, Sabé still looked on edge, twisting her hands in her lap in an unusual display of her anxiety.

"Tell me what's wrong," Obi-Wan began gently, trying not to make the words sound like an order. "You look as if your entire world has been flipped upside down."

Sabé gave a tiny, sardonic snort. "That sounds about right."

Obi-Wan remained quiet, waiting for her to fill the silence.

She took a deep breath, making visible attempts to calm down. He could tell that her nervousness was irritating her. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, and her lips pouted, an expression he recognised as one she used when she was annoying herself.

"You know I mentioned in my letter that my parents had summoned me?" she said finally, directing her sentence at the hat on her lap rather than at him.

"Yes," he replied.

"Well, they wanted to inform me that they have arranged a marriage for me." Her tone was conversational, falsely so. Her voice trembled with repressed anger. "With…" she went on, faltering a little, "…Senator Quaine Daedrin."

Obi-Wan was suddenly on high alert, his surprise threading through him. It wasn't the direction he had expected the conversation to take, but he was certain that it still related to the case. The only difference was that now he was convinced that Sabé was still in ignorance. And he didn't have clearance to enlighten her.

She met his gaze, and he saw her register his shock, pressing her lips together flatly. Obi-Wan schooled his expression to one of neutral concern. He couldn't afford to give anything away yet.

Realising that he wasn't going to comment, Sabé continued, speaking levelly. "According to an ancient Naboo law, they are within their rights to do this. Padmé is putting together a campaign to get the law repealed, but that could take years. It would be too late for me by then."

"Senator Daedrin is not your choice then?" Obi-Wan asked carefully.

"No!" she burst forth, and he felt something akin to relief briefly flash through him. "I'm sure he's fine once you get to know him, but I met with him earlier today and I don't trust him at all," she went on, letting her bitter and somewhat biased opinion taint her tone. "He's ambitious enough to get close to the Chancellor, but for what reason I don't know. My parents want to get near the inner circle, that's why they've suddenly set this up. They claim it's my _duty_ to abide by their wishes, but…I can't do it, Obi-Wan. I won't!"

She halted abruptly, her eyes wide, her jaw set stubbornly. She looked mildly alarmed, as if she hadn't expected her emotions to take over quite so much. Her anger had spiked, he could feel it.

Trying to inject a little calmness, he said, "What other options are there?"

Sabé took another deep breath. When she continued, her voice was steadier. "My parents did suggest – trying to be reassuring, I think – that I could get the marriage annulled on grounds of non-consummation, but I don't see that as a feasible option. If I wasn't willing he could try and force me."

She spoke matter-of-factly, but there was steeliness to her grim expression. Looking at her, Obi-Wan instinctively felt that if anyone tried to force themselves on her she would most likely take a vibroblade to them. He was glad that she would defend herself, but he didn't much like the idea of her serving time for murder.

He nodded, accepting her words with a frown. "True. That's a possibility that I don't think we want to confirm."

"No," she agreed, wrinkling her nose. "The only way out of it that I can see is…for me to marry someone else, on my own terms, and work out a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Obi-Wan considered that, swiftly concluding that she was probably right. A torrent of questions invaded his thoughts, queries about whether she had considered everything that an arranged marriage would entail, whether she minded giving up some freedoms. He kept them to himself, crediting her with the common sense to have thought it through already.

Sabé sighed, and he picked up on a wave of nervousness emanating from her. She was sitting rigidly on her stool, her posture tense, her hands gripping the hat she still held in her lap. As he watched, she bit her lip, then opened and closed her mouth, as if the words she wanted to say were stuck in her throat. She sighed again, the brief hiss of air betraying more annoyance than the first time. Visibly, she pulled herself together, sitting straighter and finally meeting his gaze.

"You know I wouldn't bother you for your help unless it was urgent," she said quickly.

"You're not bothering me at all, but I'm not entirely sure how I can help," he told her truthfully. "The Jedi can't offer you protection because they can't be seen to get involved in personal matters."

Sabé tilted her head, expression indicating that she'd already come to that conclusion. "No, no, of course. It's just that… Gods, this is difficult." She took a deep breath. "I need to find…" She bit her lip again, searching for the right words. "Obi-Wan, you're my dearest friend and I trust you with my life…and I'm sorry that I have to ask you to do this, but…"

Dawning realisation began to creep in, and his eyes widened, caught off guard. "Are you…" he began hesitantly, feeling slightly awkward that he had to demand clarification. "Are you asking me…what I think you're asking me?"

Sabé nodded earnestly, cheeks flushing pink. "I need someone I can trust," she declared simply.

Obliged to state the facts aloud, he said, "Sabé, I'm a Jedi. The Code forbids it."

"But dispensation has been granted in the past," she argued, making a valid point. "Master Ki-Adi-Mundi is married to five wives, is he not?"

"That's because his species has a low birth rate."

Sabé gave a nod, the corner of her lips lifting in a small, cynical twitch. He could see that she hadn't really expected the importance of her situation to equal Master Mundi's.

"I had to at least try," she said simply. "It's…it's okay. Thank you for hearing me out."

Obi-Wan said nothing, studying her thoughtfully, wondering if he really was in a position to help her. A marriage of convenience was not a violation of the Code in the traditional sense, and wouldn't alter his dedication to the Jedi Order. It was possible that the Council would allow it, especially in light of Senator Daedrin's potential involvement in the case they were investigating. But did he _want_ to agree to it? That was another matter.

"Why me?" he asked her.

Sabé looked at him in mild surprise. "Uh…well, I know you're a good person. I trust you more than most other people. And…I guess I thought that a Jedi was less likely to mind being hooked into a marriage of convenience. If I chose someone else it could disrupt their chances of marrying for better reasons, but that wouldn't be an issue for a Jedi, and it wouldn't strictly be an attachment. Not an emotional attachment, anyway."

Outwardly calm despite his tumbled thoughts, he met her gaze, considering. Part of him was a little surprised that he _was_ considering it, but he knew without question that he had to do what he could to protect her. It was his duty as a Jedi as well as a friend. She needed more protection than she fully realised, and he _wanted_ to help her. He just hadn't expected to help her… _this_ way. It would be a strange arrangement, it would be awkward, it would be difficult once the news got out, but perhaps it was the best path. He had to trust that the Force wouldn't lead him astray, wouldn't let him do something so life-altering if it was wrong. He took in her troubled, tired face, the dark circles under her eyes, the tiny bite marks on her lower lip. It couldn't be wrong to take that anxiety away, he was certain of it.

And so, after an eternity, he nodded once. "All right."

She blinked at him owlishly. "What?"

"I agree," he clarified.

She smiled, looking relieved, but there was still a strand of confusion there. "You…you do? That's…I mean…uh, thank you. But I thought…"

"The Council reconvenes in twenty minutes," he told her. "I'll raise the issue with them, and we'll see whether they'll consider this. They'll probably summon you to hear your input."

"That's fine."

Keeping his voice placidly business-like, he asked, "Assuming they agree – and you should have a back up plan, by the way – when do you want to go through the ceremony?"

Sabé's eyes widened a fraction, as if it was only just hitting her how fast things were moving and changing around her. Her words were calm, however, and he felt sure she hadn't intended to give anything away.

"As soon as we can, if you don't mind," she said at once. "I can't function for worrying about this. It's…actually quite frustrating."

She seemed embarrassed to admit it. Obi-Wan knew from past interactions that what troubled Sabé the most were the things that affected her on a deeply personal level. She no doubt thought she was overreacting, but he could understand it. She'd worked hard to achieve her position, to create the lifestyle she wanted. To potentially have it snatched away by a law she could not refuse…no wonder she was so livid and uneasy.

"What is it about Daedrin that bothers you so much?" Obi-Wan asked her, curious as to her thoughts.

She shrugged, pulling a face. "I don't know exactly, and that in itself is worrying. Something about him makes me want to get as far away from him as possible."

"Always trust your instincts," he advised. She didn't know how right she was.

"I did. That's why I travelled here to try and persuade a technically-unavailable man to marry me." Although her tone had been light, it was evident that something still bothered her. "Gods," she groaned, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. "Am I being completely selfish about this entire thing?" She lowered her hands and sent him a deeply guilty, apologetic look. "I only thought about appeasing the Jedi Code. I didn't really think about how this would affect _you_. It'll take your future options away. I can't ask you to do that for me."

She had a point. Sort of. However, he didn't think her actions could really be considered selfish. It was self-preservation, brought on by panic, laced with a tiny trace of overreaction. But it wasn't selfish.

He shook his head, speaking evenly, "Sabé, you've done nothing of the sort. My future options were unshakeable anyway due to my duty to the Jedi, and I have no intentions to leave the order. I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't understand everything this entails."

"But you'll be stuck with me," she pointed out.

"Our lives will barely change," he countered. "Although I do think it would be better for you to remain on Coruscant."

"Yes. I agree with that. I've already organised something. But–"

"Sabé," Obi-Wan interrupted firmly, cutting her off.

She halted mid-word, and he scrambled to fill the silence he had created.

"Has it occurred to you," he began, realising that she needed reassuring, needed an alternative viewpoint, "that the idea of being married to you is not unappealing?"

Sabé paused, considering, her mouth falling comically open. "Um…no," she admitted.

He gave a brief chuckle, knowing that there was no false modesty. It genuinely hadn't occurred to her. It was rather endearing.

"You're one of my oldest friends," he told her warmly. "If I am to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life, I can think of no better company." He sent her a smile, beginning to feel that there was more truth to his words than he had initially thought. "Besides," he added lightly, "you'll save me hours and hours of time I would have spent writing letters."

She let out a laugh, a burst of released tension. "Fair enough," she said with a nod. "If you're sure."

"I am. I want to help you. But we'll have to wait and see what the Council says."

"Yes, of course." Sabé scrutinised him, her eyes narrowing in thought. He wondered what she was searching for, what conclusions she drew. "I can never thank you enough for this, Obi-Wan," she said softly.

He simply smiled, unsure what else there was to say until they had heard from the Council. It seemed strange to try and talk of trivial things after such a weighty conversation. Sabé seemed to concur, and by mutual, wordless agreement, they sat in comfortable silence until it was time to move.

With only a few necessary sentences passed between them, they travelled up the Temple's south-western tower, where the Council chamber sat at the very top. On the floor below, Obi-Wan left Sabé in a small lobby near the turbolift that led directly to the chamber.

"Wait here. I'll raise the subject as soon as I can. When the lift arrives you'll know you're called in."

"Okay," she answered with a nod, biting her lip again. It was getting to be a bad habit of hers.

"Don't be nervous," he told her, sending her a sympathetic half-smile. "They're not monsters."

"Can't help it," she murmured honestly, shrugging. "It's a…weird sensation…you know, knowing a bunch of strangers will decide which path your future takes."

Obi-Wan could empathise with that, although he had no basis for comparison. The Jedi Council had always decided his fate. He reached out a hand and squeezed her arm in support, and she gave a small, tight smile in response.

"I'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "Don't make yourself late."

"No, that wouldn't be a good start, would it? I'll see you shortly."

Sabé nodded, and he stepped into the turbolift. As the doors closed he saw her start to pace, still a catalyst of raw, nervous energy. He hoped she'd have a definitive answer soon. And he hoped she had a back-up plan. Usually his experience gave him some indication of how the Council would vote on certain matters. Meetings often played out as he expected, but in this instance he had no clear idea. The Force remained silent on the subject too, although so far he hadn't felt that he'd made any wrong decisions.

The lift doors slid open, and Obi-Wan walked out into the large, circular room filled with natural light. But for the section of wall where the doors were, the entire room was lined with huge, lofty windows, displaying panoramic views of Coruscant, and the tops of the Temple's other towers. The Council members sat in custom chairs that formed a circle, their backs to the windows. Several of the Jedi were not present, their seats filled instead by their holographic images, transmitted from whichever far away world they were stationed on. His was the only empty seat. With a small, apologetic bob of his head, he crossed the room and sat down.

For the first forty minutes, the topic of discussion was the war, how it was progressing and whether any substantial development was close at hand. Each Jedi who was currently elsewhere gave reports on the status of their assignments, as well as highlighting their future plans. Any additional strategies were brought up and debated with the usual calm rationality that could be expected from Council meetings.

Obi-Wan knew the last business to be deliberated would be the investigation he had a hand in, and he was content to wait until then to raise the subject. He only hoped that Sabé hadn't worn a hole in the floor below with her pacing.

Master Yoda, who always led meetings by unspoken agreement, finally shifted the discussion towards the investigation, and Ki-Adi-Mundi began his report.

Clearing his throat, Obi-Wan spoke up. "Forgive me for interrupting, Master Mundi, but before we proceed there's an issue I need to raise that I believe could be linked to this case."

Always easy-going, Mundi gestured for him to continue, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "Earlier today an acquaintance of mine from Naboo came to me for help. Her parents are trying to force her into an arranged marriage that she doesn't want. Apparently some ancient, outdated law allows them to do so. Senator Amidala intends to try and get the law repealed, but it could take months before action is taken, which would be too late for Sabé, my acquaintance. Her intended is Senator Daedrin, and although it was her parents who made the match, the senator has expressed a keen interest in the idea."

"Do you believe that there might be a link between this friend of yours and the dead bodyguard?" Mace Windu asked, brow creased in a deep frown.

"I think it's possible, yes," Obi-Wan answered gravely. "This afternoon I enquired about the tattoo that was found on the woman's body, and was told that it was likely to be the symbol of the Order of Sanctuary, a group of highly-trained warriors from Naboo. I have not yet had chance to confirm this, but I believe that Sabé may also be a member of the Order. It would explain why Senator Daedrin has taken an interest in her."

Ki-Adi-Mundi fixed him with a thoughtful, narrow-eyed look. "Have you asked Miss Sabé for her input?"

"No, I didn't want to say anything without the authorisation of the Council, but I do think that she could be of use. If we find out more about the Order of Sanctuary, we may see more links."

"You mentioned she came to you for help," Mace Windu said. "Does she suspect Senator Daedrin of being more than he appears?"

Obi-Wan considered the question, not entirely willing to speak for Sabé. "I…don't think so, Master. She doesn't seem to trust or like him, but considering the circumstances her parents have put her in, one could hardly expect her to. The help she asked for is…unorthodox."

Yoda raised a hand to his chin, frowning at Obi-Wan in a way that made him feel as if the wizened Jedi Master already knew everything he meant to say. "What did she ask for, Obi-Wan?" he said quietly.

Still finding the situation strange and surreal, Obi-Wan pushed his emotional response aside, focusing on the facts instead. "She requested that she and I enter into a marriage in name only, so that she may carry on with her life without being at the mercy of the law. If our suspicions about the senator are true, I believe that this may also be a way to keep her safe."

"And, an answer did you give?" Yoda asked.

"Yes, Master. I agreed, providing that the Council voted for the idea. I understand that it may be considered a breach of the Code, but a marriage of convenience will not interfere with my duty to the Order."

Sombre and direct, as always, Mace Windu raised an eyebrow as he turned his level gaze Obi-Wan's way. "Why did she come to you specifically for this?"

Glad that he'd asked Sabé the question himself, he answered simply. "We've known each other since the Trade Federation incident on Naboo. She trusts me."

"Ask her, we will," Yoda decided firmly. "Is she still here?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, Master, she's downstairs."

"Go to her. Discuss this, we will, before we call you both back."

He'd half been expecting to be dismissed from the conversation, so he stood, bowed smoothly and headed for the lift. He had mixed feelings about the situation, and he hadn't yet allowed himself to consider what his preferred outcome would be. Like Sabé, his future now rested on the decision of his peers. Unlike Sabé, he was resigned to wait patiently until he found out what it was.

* * *

"I think we should allow this marriage," Ki-Adi-Mundi declared, as soon as the turbolift doors closed behind Obi-Wan's back. "If our suspicions regarding Senator Daedrin are true, then this Miss Sabé could be a target. She would be safe under Obi-Wan's protection."

"With regards to her safety, we can organise that without the marriage side of it," Mace Windu countered. "The arranged marriage, although unfortunate, is a personal matter. I'm not sure it would be wise for us to get involved."

Plo Koon spoke up over the top of his steepled fingers. "I don't think we can assume it _is_ simply a personal matter, not when we suspect Senator Daedrin of murder."

"Agreed," put in Yoda. "More complicated, it is. But right you are, Master Windu, that we cannot be seen to interfere in an individual planet's law. Another solution, we must find. Kept safe, Sabé must be."

"It sounds as if she must also be kept safe from the demands of her parents," Ki-Adi-Mundi said with a frown.

"Yes, yes," Yoda muttered slowly, nodding his head, his expression resigned. "How a parent should treat their child, it is not. But just because we disagree with it does not mean we can involve ourselves."

"But if we're right, a marriage to the senator could be a death sentence for her."

"If he is targeting members of this Order of Sanctuary," Kit Fisto added, "then it would be like handing her to him on a plate."

Ki-Adi-Mundi nodded in firm agreement. "There is too much uncertainty surrounding the senator. Until we know for sure, we must act as if he poses a direct threat to the lady. The marriage would be an excellent cover for Obi-Wan to act as her protector without alerting Daedrin to our suspicions."

"It may not be an attachment as it stands now," Mace Windu put in cynically, "but it could easily become one. We still don't know enough about why she chose Obi-Wan. We could be fanning a flame that spreads to something problematic. Worst case scenario, it could lead Obi-Wan to the Dark Side."

"Faced this challenge before, Obi-Wan has," Yoda said, his tone resolute and reassuring. "More than once, I believe. Always remained strong and committed, he has. But speak for the lady, I cannot."

Mace Windu glanced down at him thoughtfully. "You are inclined to allow this marriage?"

Yoda turned his wise, sleepy eyes Mace's way. "Trust in Obi-Wan, I do," he said simply.

Still looking highly sceptical, Mace leaned back in his seat, holding up a hand. "Well, let's put it to a vote then."

"Shouldn't we hear from the girl first?" put in Adi Gallia, tilting her head, resting her chin on a single fingertip.

"Her input refers mostly to the case," Mace told her. "I don't believe that there's much she can say about this marriage issue that we haven't already heard from Obi-Wan."

"Very well then," said Ki-Adi-Mundi. "All those in favour of allowing the marriage, raise your hands."

The room echoed faintly with the sound of rustling fabric as a number of hands went up.

Mace Windu counted them silently, raising an eyebrow. "All right. Let's get them both up here."

* * *

Sabé spent the majority of her time in the waiting area pacing back and forth in front of the turbolift doors. It achieved nothing but sore feet and a tense disposition, but she felt better for doing it. When she was fretting she couldn't abide sitting still. Fretting was one of her many traits that she couldn't trace back to either of her parents. She'd never seen Jago or Luma do anything that even remotely resembled it. If she didn't have Luma's looks and Jago's spitfire temper she would have suspected that she was adopted. Idriel had always been so perfect growing up that Sabé felt like an oddity within her own family. That was probably why she was so close to Padmé and Gregar: she'd found herself an alternative family.

Sabé had long ago reached the conclusion that she must have inherited elements of her personality from her grandparents. She couldn't remember meeting any of them. Jago's parents had died before she was born, and Luma's father when she was two. Luma's mother had remarried and run away to Corellia, and only wrote once a year on the Winter Solstice. Sabé let out a quiet giggle as she considered that. Perhaps it was her maternal grandmother she inherited her traits from, seeing as she was in the middle of trying to do something very similar.

As she paced, she tried not to look at the chrono every five minutes, aware that it only made the time feel even more sluggish than it already was. Eventually, after an hour or so, the lift doors slid open and Obi-Wan stepped out. She glanced at him in surprise, then quickly figured out what was happening.

"They're talking about us, aren't they?"

He smiled wryly, clasping his hands behind his back as he stood there, seemingly content to wait however long. "Yes, they are."

Half afraid to ask, she ventured, "What do you think they'll say?"

"I honestly don't know," he replied with a shrug. "They'll put it to a vote, take my opinion into consideration, weigh up the factors of the issue."

Sabé sighed, folding her arms, clenching fists because she didn't know what else to do with her hands. "I always knew this was a long shot," she confessed, trying not to slip too far into pessimism. "I mean, it's an absurd question to have to ask someone."

"Do you have a back-up plan?" Obi-Wan asked her seriously, his clear, blue gaze all earnest concern.

She thought of Gregar and his offer, and hesitated. "Ye-ess," she stumbled incoherently. "Sort of. But...no, not really."

He looked understandably puzzled and amused at her answer, overlaying the worry for a moment. "I see. Thank you for clearing that up."

She couldn't help but laugh, and felt grateful for the brief respite. "I...A friend of mine has offered," she explained, attempting to clarify. "But I know that it would be the wrong decision for him. He's in love with someone else, and I believe that she has feelings for him too. I don't want to get in the way of that. Neither of them would thank for me for it in the end." For the moment, she chose not to get into the complicated tangle that was Padmé, Gregar and Anakin. "So you see, I _have_ a back-up plan available, I just don't want to use it."

He nodded, seeming to understand, and they stood in companionable silence until the turbolift doors opened once more. Obi-Wan held out an arm, gesturing her forward. Gathering her courage around her like a shroud, Sabé stepped into the lift. The ride up was short, and it seemed like the doors had barely closed before they were sliding open again, revealing the impressive circular chamber. The eyes of the Council members bored into her as soon as she entered the room, and she tried not to feel self-conscious. Following Obi-Wan's subtle lead, she crossed the patterned floor to stand in the very centre.

"Welcome, Sabé," said Master Yoda, his eyes kind despite his solemn tone.

She remembered him and one or two others from Qui-Gon Jinn's funeral on Naboo. She doubted that they remembered her, but she was used to that.

"Thank you," she replied politely.

"Explained the situation to us, Master Obi-Wan has. An unusual one it is."

"To say the least."

"We're told Senator Daedrin is your intended," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi put in.

"That's right," she confirmed, wondering why they were asking what they already knew. She assumed they saw some value in reading how she answered. They all sat casually in their seats, leaning back, looking confident, calm, and austere. It was a little intimidating.

Master Yoda scratched his chin, frowning. "Hmm. And not keen on this idea, you were. Very wise. Very wise."

Sabé raised an eyebrow, beginning to sense that there was more going on than the issues she had brought to the discussion. "Wise? How so, Master Yoda?"

"Come back to that, we will," the Jedi Master assured her, leaving her mildly annoyed at the lack of answers. "Please tell us why you chose to ask for Master Obi-Wan's help."

Sabé took a deep breath, reciting the facts that she was sure they had already figured out. "I've known him for eleven years, ever since he and Master Qui-Gon Jinn helped us reclaim Naboo from the Trade Federation. Since then, we have kept in touch by trading letters. I know him to be an honourable man, and a great Jedi Master, and I trust him with my life."

Master Yoda nodded slowly. She couldn't tell if he was pleased with her answer or not.

Master Mace Windu spoke, peering at her over his clasped hands. "Are you a member of the Order of Sanctuary?"

Taken aback by the question out of the blue, she simply nodded, surprised that the once-secret Order had been a point of discussion twice in one day.

"Could you tell us about that?" Master Windu went on. "What are their defining traits?"

Not seeing the relevance, but knowing better than to ask, Sabé obliged him. "Well, Order members are exclusively female, for a start. Like the Jedi, students are taken on from childhood, and train under one or two fully-fledged warriors. At the age of fourteen, they must pass a test to qualify for full initiation. If they do get accepted into the Order, they're presented with a traditional sword as a kind of passing gift."

"Do you fight with the swords?" Obi-Wan asked, looking genuinely interested in the crash-course culture lesson she was giving.

"Sometimes, but these days a blaster tends to be more practical. Swords don't block laser bolts."

"But you do carry the swords, do you not?" Master Mundi asked.

"Yes, most Order members do," Sabé told him with a nod. "It's seen as a kind of…mark of rank."

Master Mundi exchanged a glance with Master Windu, and the latter raised a slanting eyebrow, turning back to Sabé.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about the Order?" he pressed.

Frowning a little, still irritated at the lack of answers, Sabé continued, keeping her voice level in an effort to remain polite. "When a student qualifies for full membership they receive two initiation tokens. The first is a name. All Order members have names that end in an accented E."

In her peripheral vision she saw Obi-Wan shoot her a slightly baffled glance, and she knew what he was thinking.

"Just to be confusing, not all women with names that end in É are Order members," she explained. "Over time, and partly down to the secretive nature of the Order's earlier years, the trend leaked into Nabooian culture, resulting in non-members with names ending in É. Padmé Amidala being one such example."

"So Sabé is not your real name?" Obi-Wan said, looking at her with curiosity.

"It's not my birth name," Sabé corrected. "I consider it my true name now. I _earned_ this name. It defines my achievements in life."

He sent her a tiny smile, indicating that he understood. She could see why. She was proud to be known as Sabé, just as he must be proud to go by his earned title of Master Kenobi. Within the limits of the Code, of course. But that was a conversation for another time, when it was just the two of them.

Clearing her throat briefly, she carried on. "The second token is received during the initiation ceremony. It's a tattoo in brown ink, a symbol that evolved from the Naboo royal insignia."

Master Windu sat forward in his chair. "What does this symbol look like?"

Sabé thought about the best way to describe it. "It's a little hard to explain, but it's a stylised flower with a tall, pointed central stem and a curled petal on either side." She sketched the air with her fingers as she spoke. "It has varying small details as well."

"Hmm," said Master Yoda, drawing the word out. It was a thoughtful sound, but there was a resigned ring to it, as if Sabé had just confirmed something for him.

Losing patience, she shot a bemused glance at Obi-Wan, who gave her a tight smile and a small nod. Guessing that he was indicating that it would all make sense soon, she bit her tongue against any comments.

"This symbol…does it look like this?" Master Windu asked, holding up a data pad.

Frowning, Sabé stepped closer for a better look. The data pad displayed a close up of a woman's back, the tattoo clearly visible on the left shoulder.

"Yes, that's it," she affirmed. "On an Order member, definitely. Where did you get that?"

For the first time, Master Windu lost some of his severe demeanour towards her. "Unfortunately, it's on the body of a woman who was murdered at her employer's apartment four days ago. She was identified as Naharé, a bodyguard from Naboo, but her status as an Order member was unknown."

Sabé shook her head, shocked. "But how? Order members are supremely skilled fighters, they don't fall easily."

"Shows the marks of her defence, her body does," Master Yoda put in. "An experienced warrior did this."

Flustered, Sabé exhaled noisily, her mind flooding with questions. "You…you said murdered. _Murdered_ , not killed. Like…it was a…planned hit of some kind."

"We believe it was," Ki-Adi-Mundi told her. "The assailant shot at the diplomat Naharé was protecting, but left as soon as he ran off. Clearly, the bodyguard was the only priority."

"But that's…" She gestured meaninglessly, clutching at air. "That doesn't make any sense. Who would attack the security and not the diplomat? I mean, _why_?"

"Seeking answers, we are," Master Yoda assured her. "For your help with this lead, grateful we are."

"You're welcome," Sabé replied automatically, "but I don't see what this has to do with me."

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up in a calm tone. "One of our suspects is Senator Daedrin, although we do not have conclusive proof."

Sabé's entire body went cold. Everything snapped into place, the Council's line of questioning suddenly making sense.

"What proof _do_ you have?" she said at length, her mouth dry. "If I may ask."

"We have security footage," Master Windu spoke up. "The warrior wears a helmet, but during the fight, Naharé was able to lift the visor. His features are far from clear, but we were able to pick up a slightly unusual retinal scan."

"Daedrin has mismatched eyes," Sabé recalled numbly.

Master Yoda nodded. They were apparently already aware of the fact. "Obvious, it is, that the figure is a humanoid male, but more proof we will need if we are to stop him."

Sabé could feel the beginnings of a headache thrumming at her temples. Daedrin's agreement to the arranged marriage suddenly made chillingly perfect sense. If she went through with it, she could be making herself the easiest assassination target in the history of the Republic.

"It's possible that someone is targeting Order of Sanctuary members," Master Windu said grimly. "But as yet, we're not sure why."

"But clear, it is, that you must not marry the senator," Master Yoda declared firmly.

Sabé had found herself temporarily distracted while relaying information, but at the tiny Jedi Master's words, she felt her nervousness return in a single rush. Although, strangely enough, the new knowledge that her life might be at stake made her more hopeful about the Council's agreement to her plan. She shot a quick glance Obi-Wan's way, but his face was neutral and unreadable, and he did not meet her gaze.

"Voted on this, the Council has," Master Yoda went on. "A decision, we have reached."

"The Jedi cannot be seen to interfere in individual planetary law systems," Master Windu interjected, his tone once again bordering on moody. "However, considering that your life may be in danger, and we don't want to alert Senator Daedrin to our suspicions before we're certain he's behind the murder, we have agreed to allow some more…unusual measures to ensure your safety."

Sabé listened with rapt attention, wishing he'd get to the point and give her a definite answer.

"Due to the unusual nature of the situation, and considering that it will not alter Master Kenobi's commitments to the Jedi Order, the Council grants you permission to marry."

Sabé nodded, so full of relief and gratitude that she didn't trust herself to speak sensibly.

"The marriage will be ideal cover for Obi-Wan to act as your protector," Ki-Adi-Mundi explained. "However, if the story is picked up by the HoloNet, Obi-Wan must make a statement declaring that he acted against our knowledge. We will deny it if we are approached. It will not look good for you, Obi-Wan, we will have to appear to reprimand you. But it will die down eventually. You will be able to resume normal duties when it's made clear that it's a marriage of convenience."

Obi-Wan bore the new information without flinching, his calm expression never wavering. "If that is what it takes to keep the Jedi free from suspicion of intervention, then so be it."

"No, I'm not having that," Sabé cut in. "There must be another way. I can't risk Obi-Wan's reputation like this."

"Sabé," Obi-Wan soothed, "there is no other way. Don't worry about me, I'm thick-skinned."

"I can't sit back and hear them whisper about you, knowing that it's my fault. I didn't think I would be causing you this amount of trouble when I came to you for help."

Obi-Wan's lips twitched in his attempt to hide a smile. "Sabé, you have been causing me trouble ever since I met you."

Sabé shot him an indignant look, but nodded her understanding. He was changing the tone: the topic was closed. She would have to get past her guilt and accept the help he was freely giving.

"For your protection," Master Mundi continued, "we will set you both up in an apartment. We keep a number of safe-houses that you can use. It's basic, but it's near the Temple, which should suit us. You'll be safer there than if you chose to stay with Senator Amidala or anywhere in the Senate District."

Sabé wondered how they knew she had decided to remain on Coruscant, but figured that it was a fair assumption. "I'm sure that will be just fine," she said. "Thank you, all of you, for everything you've done."

"It's not over yet," Master Windu reminded her. "It could take some time to build up a case against Senator Daedrin. The Jedi must remain a neutral party, but we cannot ignore what's going on here. The Coruscanti police are already looking into it, but we doubt they'll dig too hard. They don't like to upset the high-ranking politicians. We will have to remain discreet while we investigate. We must have irrefutable proof before we present our findings to the Chancellor. The last thing we want to do is tip off the senator."

"Of course, I understand."

"But for now, think of yourself, you must," Master Yoda told her sagely. "Have the ceremony as soon as possible, you should."

"We'll need witnesses," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"I'm not teaching a class until tomorrow," said Master Mundi. "I can accompany you."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Master Secura is recovering from a minor injury, is she not? I'm sure she would appreciate a change of scenery."

Master Yoda nodded. "Speak to her, I will. In the meantime, go and rest. Many plans to make, you have."

Obi-Wan bowed and Sabé followed his lead, realising that they were dismissed. As soon as the lift doors had closed, shutting the Council chamber from view, Sabé let out a deep sigh.

"That went better than I could have hoped," she said. "Except for the part where I discovered that my ex-fiancé has probably murdered one of my fellow Order members." Her tone was light, but in reality she was deeply disturbed by the thought, unable to fathom why anyone would target the Order, and aware that they would only get further confirmation when another bodyguard turned up dead.

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't mention that before, but I wasn't sure if the Council wanted to share the information," Obi-Wan said, a small apologetic look on his face.

"That's okay, I know how these things have to work. But if it is Daedrin, I don't understand how he plans on targeting the others without going to Naboo."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Perhaps he'll find a legitimate excuse. Politicians are always making visits to other worlds. Although that wouldn't be very subtle," he admitted. "And would make him look extremely suspicious."

"He's risen so high now, since he got closer to the Chancellor. He's noticeable to everyone." She shot him a sideward glance, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe he's bitten off more than he can chew? I mean, why would he slip up so soon?"

"Perhaps," was all he said.

The lift doors slid aside, and they emerged back in the lobby where Sabé had spent so much time pacing earlier.

"I want to help with this investigation," she announced, making a snap decision. "Thinking about it, it would be better if I _did_ marry Daedrin. Then you'd have someone on the inside."

"No," Obi-Wan said at once. "If you married him you could end up dead within a month."

"Not desirable," she muttered. "I know you're right, but for the sake of the investigation it _is_ a golden opportunity."

"Sabé, just for once would you please not put your duty first? We're trying to protect you. If there is a way you can help we'll let you know, you have my word."

"You'd better," she said good-naturedly.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "We have time for a quick meal."

"Not really, but I should probably try and eat something."

He nodded. "I thought as much. Follow me."


	7. A Very Strange Wedding

**A/N:** Sorry this one's a little late. Being dealing with some stuff. If you know where I got this chapter title from, you are awesome :)

* * *

 **Chapter Seven – A Very Strange Wedding.**

As Obi-Wan escorted Sabé down to one of the Temple's many refectories, she realised that she was hungrier than she'd thought. She'd barely eaten anything at her lunch date with Daedrin, and she was starting to feel it. They sat together at a small table in the corner, and she was suddenly hit by a wave of fatigue, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep until _that_ conversation with her parents was a faint memory.

"Are you disappointed that you won't get a proper wedding?" Obi-Wan asked unexpectedly as they ate.

Confused, she glanced up, her brow furrowed. "Not really. Why?"

"HoloNet gossip would have us believe that most women have their weddings planned from childhood."

"Oh." Understanding dawned, and she laughed. "Not me. As a child I was more interested in climbing trees."

Obi-Wan chuckled, the broadness of his smile indicating that he could picture it quite easily.

"I lost count of how many lectures I got." Lifting her chin, she put on an exaggerated, inaccurate impression of her mother. "'Dresses aren't for climbing in', 'You'll ruin your shoes', 'Why can't you act like a lady like your sister?'" She sighed, once more feeling a stab of bitterness. "Idriel – that's my sister – was always so perfect at all the ladylike stuff that I figured our mother would be content with her, and I could carry on as I liked. But she used to haul me in from the garden and make me take etiquette lessons. Which, ironically, turned out to be a godsend when I was training to be a handmaiden, so I suppose she was right in a way."

"You don't talk about your sister much," Obi-Wan commented, spearing a piece of salad with his fork.

Sabé raised her eyebrows in surprise, considering it. "I suppose I don't. We don't see each other very often."

"What does she think about your arranged marriage?"

"I'm not really sure." She glanced unseeingly to one side, recalling the brief conversation she'd had with Idriel. "She…didn't seem to have any strong opinions about it either way. Which, thinking about it, is…kind of odd." She frowned, remembering again the way her sister hadn't seemed surprised or concerned about their parents' actions. "I wonder what they said to her before she came and found me." Sabé shrugged, taking a bite of her meal. She chewed slowly, thinking, still puzzled and hurt by the whole thing. She didn't particularly want to talk it over and face it all again.

"To return to your original question," she said eventually, "if I ever did think about my wedding, I never would have imagined wearing this outfit to it."

Obi-Wan glanced at her ill-fitting security uniform and smiled. "Do you want to change? We have a little time."

"No, no, I'm fine. It doesn't bother me. I wear nice dresses on a daily basis." She considered her childhood dreams, trying to recall the ones about her wedding. "It was always my choice of groom," she added, remembering. "I never expected that I'd have to fight for the chance to make that choice."

He studied her, his expression pensive. With a touch of caution in his voice, he said, "I…am your choice?"

"Well…yes. In a way. It's not normal circumstances, I admit, but I _have_ made a choice, however limited it was."

He conceded the point, seeming more at ease. "Fair enough."

Sabé put down her fork and sat back, cradling her cup of caf in the palm of her hand. "What about you? I know Jedi aren't supposed to get married but I'm sure it's crossed your mind before."

"Once or twice," he replied with a private smile.

Pleasantly surprised, Sabé broke out in an unexpected grin. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, you've been in love! Tell me!"

"Must you press every point I raise?" he said with a mock grumble, the twinkle in his eye giving him away.

"In this case, yes," she insisted, glad to be talking about something else. "Spill! You never mentioned anyone in your letters."

He shrugged casually, an obvious attempt to kill the topic. "They were both before I met you."

She waved her hand in a circular motion, urging him to continue. "And? Brunette, blonde, redhead, Twi'lek, Mirialan?"

"What does it matter?" he sighed, setting his cutlery aside.

"It doesn't. I'm just curious about Obi-Wan the man, since I'm already well acquainted with Master Kenobi."

He didn't look as if he fully understood why she was asking, but he seemed to pick up on her need to talk about something that wasn't related to her situation. With a pensive exhale, he clasped his hands in front of him, eyes turned to the table top as he thought back.

"Okay, fine," he answered at length. "The first was a fellow Padawan, Siri Tachi. We discovered feelings for each other, but we eventually decided to put them aside and maintain our commitment to the Order. I don't think either of us regretted that decision. It was the right one." His voice was level and entirely at ease. He truly had found the balance of distance and affection.

"What's she like?" Sabé asked, curious about the kind of person who could break through his exterior as a model Jedi.

"She was spiky," he told her with a fond smile. "But with a kind heart. She...challenged me, and it was good for me. She was a good Jedi...a good person."

"Was?" Sabé repeated softly.

He nodded. "She was killed a few months ago. Saving Padmé, actually." There was no trace of sadness in his voice. He'd clearly come to terms with it weeks ago, but there was an edge of wistfulness to his words.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm grateful for the things that she taught me, and grateful that I knew her."

The unselfish, open-hearted way he spoke was rational, but didn't lose any emotion in the process. If Sabé had had to define how to love without forming attachments, that would have been it. It puzzled her further about the Jedi Code, which she'd never really understood. It was clearly possible to love _and_ be a dedicated Jedi, so she didn't see why it should be so forbidden. But then, not every man was like Obi-Wan. As much as she hated to think it, she wasn't convinced that Anakin loved Padmé in that selfless way.

"You said 'first'," she commented, taking a sip of caf. "There was someone else?"

Obi-Wan nodded, staring unseeingly at the table top. He seemed a little more on edge recalling the second, which only served to make Sabé more curious.

"The second," he ventured at last, "was Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore."

Sabé felt her eyes widen in surprise. "A duchess? My goodness, Kenobi, you aim high, don't you?" she said with a wink.

He smiled wryly. "Not on purpose, I assure you." His smile dropped and his expression grew reflective. "Satine and I were very young, both of us not yet twenty. It was easy to love her. She was strong-minded, intelligent and always put her people first. I fell into the trap, despite my past experiences with Siri that should have taught me to know better. It was different with Satine. She wasn't bound by the Jedi Code as I was. I don't think she truly understood why I gave her up."

"That must have been hard."

"It was, especially considering…well, I had been foolish, let's put it that way."

"I don't follow," Sabé said.

Obi-Wan was not the sort of man who got embarrassed. The quick shift of his gaze to the imaginary lint on his sleeve was the only indication that he was discussing a sensitive topic.

"Satine and I…" he began, examining his caf cup, "had a...what you'd call a…"

"Physical relationship?" Sabé offered with a flash of inspiration, curbing her surprise.

He glanced up to check that nobody was listening, then nodded, seemingly relieved that she had come to the conclusion on her own.

"Fortunately no…complications…arose from that…incident."

Understanding what he meant, Sabé nodded her agreement. She felt a dash of sympathy for the unknown duchess, glad that fate had been kind and she was not stuck raising a half-Jedi child on her own.

"So what happened?" she asked, finding the insight into his past intriguing.

"I...was self-centred." He gave a sigh, shrugging. "There's no other word for it. I knew my actions were against the Code, but I just wanted a moment of selfish normality. It was wrong, and I shouldn't have used Satine like that, but... I got caught up. I even considered leaving the Order to have a life with her, but I knew that that would be a decision I would come to regret. What we had was...a whirlwind: intense but also destructive. It would have destroyed us both in the end, even at nineteen years old, I could see that. So we parted. Master Qui-Gon and I were stationed on Mandalore for a year, but I always knew I'd have to leave eventually."

"Then what happened?" Sabé asked, leaning her elbows on the table. She was finding it hard to picture Obi-Wan letting himself get caught up in anything. He was always so in control, so self-assured, and seemed as if he always had been.

"I moved on," he told her. "Continued to learn and grow, until I was sent to negotiate with the Trade Federation and ended up stranded on Tatooine with a mouthy handmaiden."

She grinned. "What can I say, it was fun being Queen while I got to boss you around."

"Evidently," he replied, smiling. "I remember you actually _argued_ with me when I told you not to send any transmissions. I was just doing what Master Qui-Gon had instructed, and you jumped straight down my throat. I didn't know how to react."

Sabé smiled sheepishly, letting out an embarrassed little laugh. "Um...you argued back, I seem to recall. And then you stormed out."

"I didn't 'storm'," he insisted.

"Oh, there was definitely some storming going on."

A blue-skinned Twi'lek Jedi made her way over to their table, weaving her way through the others. She wore a brace on her right arm, and one of her lekku was heavily bandaged. She walked with grace, despite her healing injuries, and her face was free of pain. She wore a long, flowing gown and cloak that hid her lightsaber from view. Sabé thought it was an unusually dressy uniform for a Jedi, until it occurred to her that it was probably a disguise. Obi-Wan's brief look of surprise confirmed her suspicion.

"Master Kenobi," the Twi'lek greeted in accented Basic.

"Master Secura. How are you feeling?"

"Frustrated," she admitted. "I'm keen to get back to active duty. But thank you for this opportunity to leave the medical wing."

"Any time."

She turned to Sabé, offering a smile. "I am Master Aayla Secura."

Sabé nodded politely. "Sabé. Pleased to meet you."

"Nice dress," Obi-Wan commented.

Master Secura pulled a face. "It's my disguise. The Council thought that it would not look good for three Jedi to appear at a wedding."

"Would it not be safer for Obi-Wan to be disguised too?" Sabé asked, frowning.

The Jedi shook her head at once. "No. There cannot be the slightest thing that could be used in a case against the legality of the marriage. Obi-Wan must be himself. Now, if you are both ready, it is time."

Sabé and Obi-Wan shot each other a look across the table, then got to their feet.

Obi-Wan glanced at Master Secura. "We're ready."

They made their way to the entrance hall, Sabé trying her best not to feel irrationally nervous. She'd fought to get to this point, and it made no sense that she should feel anxious again. Yet, she had to forcibly put it out of mind.

Master Mundi was already waiting for them, his usual Jedi robe replaced with a long, bulky coat that had clearly seen better days. He greeted them with a nod.

"Miss Sabé, Master Kenobi," he began in his customary courteous tones.

They both nodded to him.

"Have we located a registrar?" Obi-Wan asked him.

"Yes," said Master Mundi. "There's a Chagrian registrar working near the Uscru Entertainment District."

"What's his reputation?" Sabé put in.

"Not brilliant. He books appointments in fifteen minute slots, but he is legal."

"That's all we need, I suppose," she said with a shrug. "Have we booked?"

Master Mundi gave a nod. "Yes, and we should be on our way."

The party took the turbolift to one of the Temple's hangars and Master Mundi settled himself at the controls of a four-seated speeder. Master Secura got in beside him, leaving the back seats for Sabé and Obi-Wan.

They joined the lines of traffic weaving their way through Coruscant's sunset-streaked skies, heading for the vibrant lights of the entertainment districts. The short journey passed in silence. Sabé was tense. She knew it was only a matter of time before her parents would first discover her missing, then soon after discover her marriage. And then of course, there was Daedrin to consider. She wondered how he would react. His smooth exterior could easily hide a coiled spring of anger, ready to lash out when necessary. Or perhaps he would simply consider himself inconvenienced and devise an alternative way of dispatching her.

She gave herself a shake. It would achieve nothing to wildly speculate. She would do better to focus on the matter at hand.

The speeder dipped down towards the outskirts of the district. The natural light was restricted so far down, and the streets were lit by colourful signs and adverts. The outskirts were not quite as seedy as the city's underbelly a few levels down, but it did attract death stick dealers and one or two higher-class streetwalkers. It was one of many areas that served as middle-ground between the city and the undercity, in reputation as well as location.

They left the speeder somewhere memorable, activating the security field since its theft was a distinct possibility. The building they needed was as decorated as the rest, its front façade littered with neon signs.

"Charming place," Master Secura commented sardonically, her nose wrinkled. "Could we not do better than this?"

"Not on such short notice and with a secure level of secrecy," Master Mundi replied.

"It could be worse," Sabé pointed out.

They headed towards the main entrance, the three Jedi clustered around their charge. Inside, there was a waiting room with a mismatched collection of chairs, a door that seemingly led to the ceremony room, and a rusting protocol droid.

"Greetings sirs and madams," it said enthusiastically. "May I take the name of your booking, please?"

"Kenobi," Master Mundi said.

The droid waved them towards the seats. "You are expected, please make yourselves comfortable."

The Jedi each took a seat while Sabé drifted towards the window, watching the patrons of the entertainment district begin to emerge for the night's amusement. Her mind full of her various worries, she felt worlds away from the laughing crowds below, half wishing she could join them. She heard a rustle of fabric, then Obi-Wan's quiet footsteps approaching her position.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Are you nervous?"

She glanced up at him, her dear friend who would in a matter of minutes become her husband. It felt...strange.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "It's annoying, I didn't think I would be."

"You are entitled," he told her. "It's a big step, after all. And this isn't exactly a normal situation."

"I wish you Jedi weren't always so calm about everything! It makes me feel inferior!"

He gave a quiet chuckle. "It's a lesson drilled into us at a young age." There was a brief, companionable pause, then he added, "I must say, of all the things I thought I might do today, this wasn't one of them."

Sabé laughed, glad for the small break in tension. "Glad I can keep you on your toes."

The door slid aside, causing them all to look up. A Kiffar bride and groom appeared, broad smiles on their faces as they departed with their Dug witnesses. The tall, indigo-skinned Chagrian registrar stood in the doorway, waving the new group forwards.

Obi-Wan held out a hand. "We must keep up appearances," he said quietly.

"Of course," Sabé said, clasping it. His fingers tightened around hers, flooding her with sudden reassurance. "Shall we?"

He nodded, and they entered the room, their companions dutifully following. The room was small but not unpleasant, softly lit by dim lamps and the glow of the signs outside. There was a second collection of ill-matched chairs, and a lone table. The Chagrian stood before it as if he were the holiest of high priests rather than a simple registrar. As they approached, he looked them up and down.

"Hmm. Not often I get one of you lot in here."

Master Mundi and Master Secura exchanged a concerned glance, evidently troubled by the term 'not often'.

"Thought this sort of thing was against your rules."

Obi-Wan stepped forward and pressed a pile of credit chips into the registrar's palm. "This is for your silence." Another pile in the opposite hand. "And to ensure that you tell me immediately if anyone comes asking about this."

The Chagrian looked a little taken aback, but readily pocketed the credits. Extra money on top of his fee would always be agreeable. He broke out in a grin. "Okay then, folks, shall we begin? Bride and groom, write down your full names here." He slid a piece of flimsi across the table towards them. "Witnesses, take a seat."

When the technicalities were sorted, the unusual bride and groom stood side by side in front of the registrar. Sabé inhaled deeply through her nose, keeping calm as best she could.

"Right," the registrar began, his entire attitude casual and nonchalant. Strangely enough, Sabé found that his unprofessionalism lessened her nervousness. "My name is Chas Durell. I'm a fully licensed registrar. Marriage, according to the law of Coruscant, is the union of two or more beings, depending on cultural traditions." He cleared his throat and glanced down at his flimsi pad. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Sabé Syrena Simmonite." He paused, glancing up at Sabé. "Seriously, honey? What were your parents on when they named you?"

Sabé simply slanted one eyebrow, a move that was equally as threatening as pulling a dagger from a sheath.

The Chagrian shrugged and continued. "If anyone here knows of any reason why these two may not be lawfully joined, speak it now or forever hold your peace."

Master Mundi and Master Secura remained silent.

"Cool," murmured Durell. "Hate that part." Aloud, he said, "Would you face each other, please?"

Sabé and Obi-Wan obediently moved.

"Who gives this woman to this man?"

Master Mundi stood up. "I do." Under the registrar's instruction, he placed Sabé's left hand in Obi-Wan's right, then returned to his seat.

"Who gives this man to this woman?"

"I do," said Master Secura, stepping forward to join Obi-Wan's left hand with Sabé's right.

"Excellent. Sabé Syrena Simmonite, do you freely bind yourself to Obi-Wan Kenobi, to be his companion, partner, aide and comfort for all the days of your life?"

Forcing her dry mouth to work, Sabé muttered, "I do."

"And you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you promise to forsake all others, to be Sabé's comfort and confidant, friend, lover and companion for your mortal days?"

"I do," Obi-Wan answered.

"Do you have the rings?" Durell asked.

Sabé tensed, a brief stab of panic shooting through her gut. The rings had slipped her mind completely. Then she felt Obi-Wan squeeze her hands in encouragement. Master Mundi stepped forward, holding two plain silver bands. Sabé could not help feeling embarrassment mixed with her relief. She knew she should have organised them herself, but she had been in no fit state to remember details.

Durell took the rings from Master Mundi and held them in his palm. "The rings are a symbol of your love, unbroken and shining. They show the galaxy the vows you make here today."

He handed the rings over, and Sabé and Obi-Wan carefully slid them into place.

"All right," the registrar finished brightly. "You have exchanged vows and rings. By the power vested in me by the office of the Supreme Chancellor, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss."

Sabé and Obi-Wan looked at each other, united in sudden wariness. Sabé hadn't exactly forgotten that part of the ceremony, but neither had she allowed herself a single moment to think about it. Unwilling to jeopardise their cover, they hesitantly drifted towards each other. Obi-Wan lightly placed his hands on her waist. They drew closer until their lips touched.

Sabé felt the spark of it like a lightning bolt, unexpected and thrilling. Her heartbeat increased to what she feared would be an audible rate. Her body grew warm, starting from the point where their lips met, travelling all the way down to her boots. It was a swift, chaste kiss, nothing more, yet it was somehow more intense, more consequential than any of the seemingly passionate kisses she had exchanged with her old flames.

Even more surprising, and – she was hesitant to admit – concerning was the immediate feeling of rightness. Kissing Obi-Wan felt like opening the cover of a well-loved book; familiar, exciting, comforting. Like a homecoming. It was an ill-advised train of thought, and she fought to quash it. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this.

When they pulled apart they gazed at each other, equal looks of surprise, confusion and something else unspoken on their faces.

For the first time, Sabé looked at him and did not see her old friend, but a handsome, intelligent, compassionate man. For the first time, she truly studied the features she knew so well: the casual sweep of the red-brown hair that he'd grown out with much relief as soon as he'd become a Knight, the piercing azure blue eyes that held an intensity she'd been somehow unaware of, the neatly-trimmed beard that he'd grown to appear more like a tutor, that he now wore comfortably and suited. He was not the cocky-yet-considerate young Padawan that she'd first become friends with. He had matured, grown stronger, become more sure of himself and his place in the scheme of things. He was still her old friend with the dry sense of humour, and yet she was suddenly seeing him in a different light altogether.

And he, she could read it in his eyes, was seeing her in the same way.

 _Gods_ , she thought, _what is this?_

Master Mundi and Master Secura did not appear to have noticed anything amiss, and got to their feet in preparation to leave.

Sabé and Obi-Wan carefully avoided each other's gaze while they signed a flimsi and data version of the register, and paid Durell his fee. As they left, they passed the next couple of grooms, one human and one Pantoran man, awaiting their turn. They all returned to the speeder in silence.

Back in the lines of traffic, Master Mundi shot them both a glance and said, "We'll drop you off at the safe-house, then report to the Council."

"Do you need me there for that?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, don't worry. I'm sure it will only be a brief report."

Master Mundi guided the speeder to a residential district in the shadow of the Jedi Temple. It was not as upmarket as the senatorial district where Padmé lived, but neither was it rundown or rough. They halted outside a tall, unremarkable apartment building, and Obi-Wan and Sabé disembarked.

Master Mundi fixed his fellow Jedi with a steady look. "Remember, Obi-Wan, your first priority is Miss Simmonite's…sorry, Mrs. Kenobi's protection. When the Council has decided how to proceed with the investigation, we will inform you."

Obi-Wan nodded his understanding.

Sabé stepped forward. "Thank you for everything the Jedi have done for me," she said, addressing them all. "I appreciate it more than I can say."

Master Mundi gave a smile. "You're welcome, Sabé. Have a pleasant evening."

He and Master Secura bade them farewell, and the speeder rose and departed, leaving the newlyweds alone to ponder their new situation and the inconvenient possibilities sparked by the simplest of chaste kisses.

* * *

 **A/N:** Unavoidable-kissing-in-a-fake-relationship trope? Sign me up! The vows don't belong to me, they appear in the 'Union' graphic novel by Michael Stackpole. Only a short chapter this time because this felt like a natural stopping place.

Not sure when the next chapter will be up. I have some health stuff to deal with :/ Hopefully I can make my two weekly schedule.


	8. Unity

**A/N:** This chapter is rated for mild suggestiveness. Nothing major, but I'm just being safe.

To my guest reviewer Graceful Gravity: I wanted to call you Graceful Charity for a second there. Then I remembered that that's a Yu-Gi-Oh card lol. Thank you for the kind words, hope you enjoy this one :)

* * *

 **Chapter Eight – Unity.**

The safe-house apartment was pleasant, decorated in soft blues and warm creams, but nowhere near the opulent luxury that Sabé was used to seeing in her service to Naboo's hierarchy. However, it suited her better for its simplicity, as she couldn't abide fuss.

As she and Obi-Wan stood surveying their temporary home, she turned to him.

"I can never thank you enough for everything you've done." Her words were soft, full of sincerity.

He waved off her thanks with a modest smile, but she persevered. She'd asked so much of him, and he hadn't let her down, even on matters that she'd had no right to ask.

"No, I mean it," she insisted. "You're a true friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I will never forget this. Some day I hope I can repay you."

"When you find a way, let me know," he said diplomatically.

She nodded, smiling briefly, and set about exploring the rest of the apartment. It did not take long, as it wasn't large, but it gave her something to do to briefly escape from the growing awkwardness. She still couldn't explain the sudden change in her view of her old friend. A simple kiss should not have sparked such a reaction. It confused her, and confusion made her feel insecure. There was a hint of attraction between them now that hadn't been there before, and she wasn't sure what to do about it.

 _You don't need to do anything_ , she told herself. _This means nothing._

But she knew that wasn't exactly true. There was a clause in the marriage law that demanded consummation. Considering why it had been created in the first place, such a clause made sense, even if it seemed hopelessly outdated now. Sabé hadn't thought too hard about it, assuming that they would lie if the topic ever came up. They weren't married under the law, but their union needed to be water-tight. Since that kiss, a traitorous little part of her had wondered whether they would dare to truly make it secure.

Before the ceremony, the thought of doing anything _other_ than lying about it hadn't been an option, because to do so would be embarrassing, and demand more from Obi-Wan than the Code strictly allowed. (Although she couldn't see how a single encounter could be construed as an attachment.) But now...the possibility didn't seem as strange as it had done. That kiss had changed everything.

Sabé sighed, feeling ill at ease and confused. And confused about being confused. She didn't want to feel it. It had just made everything awkward, and it was an annoyance she hadn't anticipated. She couldn't help wondering if Obi-Wan was feeling the same as she was. She didn't know if she had the courage to ask.

Thinking about it caused a wave of nerves to come crashing to the forefront of her reflections. Nervousness was something she wasn't used to, and she didn't care for the way it invaded her life and made simple tasks difficult.

 _Just go and talk to him_ , she scolded herself. _He's a rational person, like you're supposed to be._

Chastened, she squared her shoulders and headed out to her new husband.

He had discarded his robe, which was draped across the back of the sofa, and was standing at the window, watching the streams of traffic move across the night sky. He had drawn all the blinds in an attempt to avoid spies and the HoloNet but he was able to observe the view thanks to the genius of the design, which let insiders look out but kept outsiders from looking in. He already looked at home. A by-product of constantly being on the move, she suspected: it didn't take him long to settle in anywhere.

"Everything okay?" he asked without turning.

She could see the start of his profile against the dim light from outside.

"Yes, fine," she answered, pleased that her voice was still level. "This place is ideal."

"Good."

A momentary stillness fell, and she found herself nervously polishing the toe of her boot on the carpet, something she'd done all the time as a child. She made herself stand up straight, clearing her throat before speaking again.

"I, uh, I'm going to need to go back to Naboo sometime soon. I have to pack my things and put my affairs in order. Would you be able to accompany me?"

"Of course," he answered easily, the tilt of his head implying that he was looking at her reflection. "You are my assignment now, Sabé, I can accompany you wherever you need to go."

"Oh." She nodded, unsure how to react. She'd never been an assignment before. She wondered what he was thinking, whether the marriage felt like a betrayal to the feelings he'd had for his duchess. She hoped that they hadn't made a terrible mistake.

The silence stretched on between them. All of Sabé's good intentions concerning her calm state of mind floated out the viewport, and her anxiety returned with vengeance. She caught Obi-Wan's subtle wince as he sensed it, and her cheeks reddened.

He turned, appraising her with folded arms, his expression placid and reflective.

"What's on your mind?" he asked calmly.

"Nothing," Sabé shot out, immediately regretting it. It was so painfully clear that it wasn't true.

Obi-Wan fixed her with a look, raising an eyebrow, and she knew she should stop even attempting to fool him.

Sabé sighed, one corner of her lips twisting up in a little scowl of uncertainty. "I wasn't sure if I should raise this topic, but..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "The marriage can be annulled on grounds of...of, um, non-consummation. I just wanted to check whether that's something you're okay lying about...because...uh, because..." She trailed off, then shook her head, sighing nosily. "Gods, do you have any idea how awkward you make this when you just stand there calmly?"

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to smile. She felt a stab of indignant annoyance.

"I'm sorry," he said, not entirely sincerely.

"Sure," she muttered, unconvinced. "Anyway, I wasn't sure of the Jedi policy where lying is concerned. It doesn't seem like something you'd be a hundred percent okay with, but...the alternative..."

He left the window, crossing the room to stand in front of her, an arm's length away. Sabé felt the absurd instinct to step back, his sudden nearness startling her.

"What's _your_ policy where lying is concerned?" he asked softly.

It was a thinly-veiled double-edged question, and she narrowed her eyes slightly, scrutinising him. She wasn't sure how far he'd disobey the Code. Yes, he'd done it before, as she'd learned earlier, but that had been for love, not…whatever it was they had discovered between them.

"I...I'm...I think I prefer not to," she said, feeling dry-mouthed as she realised how honest she was being. "But," she couldn't help adding, "sometimes it...becomes necessary. To...save feelings. Sometimes it's the right thing to do."

"Perhaps," he admitted, dropping the pretence of the topic. "We shouldn't. I'd be bending the rules, and I can't pretend otherwise...but also, I can't help but feel uncomfortable at the thought of there being any loopholes in this marriage. It...feels like tempting fate."

Sabé nodded, understanding his viewpoint. She agreed with it, even though a foolish part of her felt stung at his clinical reasoning.

"You, er, you're right," she spoke up. "Daedrin could be a nasty piece of work rather than just someone I don't like. It would be better not to leave any loopholes, like you said, that he could exploit later. Or that my parents could find out about."

They held each other's gaze for a drawn-out moment, studying, scrutinising, making sure that they were completely on the same page. For two people considering letting themselves get caught up in each other, Sabé thought they were being surprisingly logical. The way they were talking still made it seem like a task they had ahead of them rather than anything more intimate. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with that, but at the same time she didn't want to do anything they'd later regret.

The spark, whatever it was, jumped between them like lightning, and she suddenly knew beyond doubt that their more selfish impulses would win. While that realisation made her stomach flip with anticipation, it also worried her. She didn't want to be the cause of anything that would steer Obi-Wan off the light path. That thought was enough to stop her cold.

"No. I can't," she mumbled abruptly, taking a clumsy, panicked step away from him.

Although his demeanour was still calm, his eyes revealed what he was feeling: namely, the same as she was; the spark _and_ the uncertainty.

"Obi-Wan," she began with a sigh. "It's…I think it's unwise. We're being self-seeking, both of us. We're talking about erasing loopholes, but we both know that's only a small part of it. This is about taking what we want, because we've suddenly discovered what that is."

She opted for harsh honesty, because she knew she should speak plainly, yet she felt her cheeks burn red, and her fists clenched at her sides.

Obi-Wan still gazed at her thoughtfully, frowning a little as he processed her words. She couldn't tell if he agreed with her or not. Sabé watched him for a while, finding his silence grating.

"Any time you want to join in this conversation, go right ahead," she snapped, embarrassment-fuelled anger flaring.

His gaze sharpened under hers, and he looked mildly apologetic.

"I understand what you're saying," he told her, as if the awkward pause hadn't happened at all, "but I can't see it as cynically as you do."

"What do you mean?"

She expected an articulate, well thought-out answer. Instead, he replied with five simple words.

"It doesn't feel like selfishness."

Sabé fell silent, contemplating. She wouldn't have accepted such a vague argument from anyone else, but a Jedi's feelings held far more significance than others. If Obi-Wan felt that anything was even _slightly_ off, they wouldn't be having the conversation. She'd known him long enough to be certain of that.

She thought about the rules he was bound by, the Jedi Code. No possessiveness: there wasn't a shred of that in him anyway. No attachment: theirs was a marriage of convenience, their relationship firmly platonic. Mostly. Falling deeper into introspection, Sabé examined the way she was feeling, suddenly afraid that it might be more than it should be. There was nothing inappropriate between them. There was attraction, there was potential for more than that, but it wasn't anything lasting. It wasn't _love_. If there was something she should be good at recognising, it was passion without love. She'd felt that before, seven years ago, during her ill-fated relationship with Killric Devennon.

And Obi-Wan was right, it _would_ make the marriage secure, and she couldn't deny that that was a comforting thought. It seemed to be Obi-Wan's _only_ thought, however, and she suddenly worried that she was making a fool of herself thinking that there was anything more going on. She'd seen it, or thought she had, but doubt crept in regardless.

Tentative, unsure if she was allowed to ask, she ventured quietly, "Do you feel it too?"

She had to know, however much it altered the tension in the room.

Obi-Wan hesitated, gazing at her with those piercing blue eyes, clearly debating his answer. Then, almost reluctantly, he nodded.

"And the first time as well?" she pressed. "During the ceremony?"

This time he answered immediately, with plain honesty. "Yes."

Sabé nodded, an almost absurdly polite gesture.

"Does it make a difference?" he added.

She bit her lip, considering the question. Knowing she should pay him the courtesy of the same honest answers he'd given her, she examined her reflections critically. She was slightly embarrassed that she wanted him, feeling it was something that she shouldn't be dabbling in, that he should be off-limits. To have confirmation that those desires were reciprocated lifted some of that embarrassment away. She was taken aback by just how much it changed her perception.

"Yes," she replied, her slight surprise leaking into her tone. "It makes a difference."

He stepped towards her, and she took half a step forward herself, closing the gap almost without thinking. They were close enough to touch, but neither took the initiative.

"Sometimes my path is crystal clear," Obi-Wan explained to her, his voice quiet, "and sometimes I can only rely on instincts. This is one of the latter times."

Sabé wetted her dry lips. "And…what do your instincts say?"

His fingertips came up to trace her jaw line, his hesitant touch lighter than the finest mist. Her skin tingled at the contact, sending a flutter of tiny shivers through her body.

"Much the same as yours, I imagine," he murmured, leaning in.

Sabé tilted her head up, meeting his lips with hers. Everything she'd begun to feel at the ceremony came flooding back, washing away any residual doubts, and any leftover strangeness at being wrapped in an embrace with her old friend. Pulling him closer by a handful of tunic, Sabé gave herself over to her instincts. She let herself get swept away on a tide of awareness, knowing he was doing the same, that they were in it together, whether it was bending the rules or not. She still wasn't sure, but the more she kissed him, the less she cared. They would deal with the consequences later. For now, there was nothing but the two of them.

* * *

An indistinguishable amount of time later found Sabé quiet and contemplative. She lay on her front, her arms folded across a pillow, her hair splayed in a mass that was half waves, half tangles. Her head rested on her arms, tilted towards her companion. Obi-Wan lay on his back beside her, seemingly as deep in thought as she was. They were both peaceful, free from any lingering shyness, comfortable enough with each other to remain side by side in their jumble of sheets.

Sabé allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she relaxed, safe in the knowledge that she was well and truly free from an unwanted marriage, and that nothing could threaten the security of the new one. The trouble was far from over, she knew that, but she was out of harm's way for the moment. She had done it on her own terms.

Moreover, she had discovered something about herself and Obi-Wan that she hadn't known existed, and rather than make things awkward, it actually seemed to have eliminated the residual unease. She didn't quite understand the logic of it, but she wasn't complaining. She wasn't complaining about _any_ of it.

Obi-Wan shifted onto his side, glancing down at her. He reached out and lightly traced his fingertips across the tattoo at the base of her spine.

"Your Order of Sanctuary mark," he said, phrasing it as a question he already knew the answer to.

She nodded. "Let's hope it won't end up displayed on a crime scene image."

"I won't let that happen."

She shot him a smile. "I know. Neither will I, if I can help it."

"The odds are good then," he mused lightly. "You should be all right."

"That's a relief."

There was a companionable silence. Sabé realised that Obi-Wan's palm still rested on her back. She found the warmth oddly comforting.

"Do you not think," she wondered aloud, "that this should feel…stranger than it does?"

He considered the question for a long moment, a frown creasing his forehead. "Perhaps," he said at length. "But you and I know each other well, we're both practical people."

"Even so, this is not a normal situation. And then there's what happened at the ceremony."

"You don't think that that was just simple attraction?"

"No, I don't." She halted, closing her eyes briefly. "I'm sorry, I know how that sounded. I didn't mean that there wasn't attraction there, I just meant–"

"I know what you meant," he interrupted, apparently amused by her flustering.

She pulled a face before continuing. "I just meant that it was unusually sudden. It was just there...in an instant. In my experience, that doesn't happen. It's either there from the beginning or–" She came to an abrupt stop as she examined her own feelings. With a pang she realised that it _had_ been there from the beginning. It had been something that she had never consciously acknowledged, that she had been able to suppress out of respect for his duty and their friendship.

"Oh," she muttered.

"Something you'd like to confess?" he asked innocently, unable to hide a hint of a smirk.

For a moment Sabé was reminded of his younger self, as she'd first known him, when he'd still been trying to shake off his arrogant phase. His teasing, as always, was purely benevolent. Deep down, she didn't really mind it, but still she gave an irritated huff.

"No," she said stubbornly. "There's no point, you know what I'm thinking!"

He laughed, but did not deny it.

She pressed her face to the pillow and mumbled, "Am I never going to have any secrets ever again?"

She spoke lightly, but she meant it, and wondered if she should work on some kind of shielding technique. For whatever reason, he was able to read her more easily than she was entirely comfortable with. She wasn't convinced that it was solely due to the Force, either.

Obi-Wan's expression sobered. "Would it make you feel better if I said that I have felt it too, almost since the beginning?"

She turned towards him again. "Not if you're just saying it for the sake of it," she quipped, realising that he was levelling the playing field, so to speak, but unable to accept his words at face value.

"I'm not," he assured her warmly.

Still not able to let it lie, Sabé pressed on, "But how can you have? It's forbidden, isn't it?"

"They can't stop us from feeling," he told her conversationally. His expression was thoughtful yet confident, implying that he'd considered the issue before. "It's how we act on it, or don't act on it, that matters."

"And you didn't act on it," she mentioned unnecessarily.

"No. I was wiser when I met you, with the experiences of Siri and Satine behind me. I was less inclined to rush into things. And besides, I had a lot on my mind. There was...a darkness that I could sense almost constantly while Qui-Gon and I were making our way to you. It was somewhat distracting."

"That was the Sith Lord that killed him?" Sabé surmised.

"I think so. I _hope_ so, anyway. Otherwise, it's still out there."

A poignant hush fell, lending a bleaker undertone to the atmosphere. Sabé rested her chin on her folded arms, eager to break the mood and get the conversation back on track.

"I...felt it from the start," she admitted, "but I never really acknowledged it consciously, or even fully understood it. I was very young back then, still quite naive. And you were kind of intimidating, you know."

His face broke into a surprised, amused smile. " _I_ was intimidating?" he repeated.

"You were!" she insisted. "I had never seen a Jedi before, and you leapt down off that walkway and starting cutting down droids faster than any warrior I'd ever seen. You had this...aura of power, even as an apprentice. It was..." She trailed off, shrugging.

"Intimidating," he finished for her.

She nodded unapologetically, smiling as he gave a light chuckle.

"I was very young," she repeated, defensive.

"You were an adult by Naboo standards," Obi-Wan helpfully pointed out, laughing when she turned a narrow-eyed glare his way.

Sabé dropped her frown when he laughed, finding it infectious. Another moment of silence fell as they considered the new revelations. Neither of them seemed to be terribly surprised by the knowledge now they had grown used to the idea. Sabé wondered if they had somehow always been aware that they were ignoring their attraction, and it had become one of the many elements that made up their relationship.

"You're thinking too much again," Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly.

Sabé shot him a look that was part defensive, part curious. "How do you know that? I might be daydreaming."

"You always frown when you're thinking."

"Hmph," she grumbled, turning on her back and drawing the covers up over her chest. Obi-Wan pulled his hand back to his side.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, his expression open and accommodating.

She bit her lip, debating whether to be completely frank with him. "I was just…thinking about the fact that we seem rather at ease for a couple in a marriage of convenience."

He nodded understandingly, as if the same thought had occurred to him too. "Well, we're no ordinary couple, and we're both rational people. But you're right. Tomorrow I'll sleep in the other bedroom." In a strange tone that seemed almost contrite, he added, "Or I could move there tonight, if you prefer."

She paused, considering his question. It would be better if he went straight away, then they could carry on with their lives as they intended to: amiably, but firmly separate. Despite what had been said earlier in the evening, she knew they were walking a knife's edge with regards to the Jedi Code and what was deemed acceptable. And yet…

She met his gaze, so sincere, so compassionate…so intensely distracting. She marvelled that she'd never noticed it before, back when she'd placed him firmly in the category of 'friend' where there were no blurred edges. But then there were many things that she'd never noticed before that she suddenly could not help seeing. She'd never known her own thoughts could be so superficial, and they made her blush to think of, but she couldn't restrict her observant nature only to things that mattered. The lean muscles, which had previously remained safely concealed beneath his tunic, made for an active, athletic physique that she couldn't help but admire. Now she knew how it felt to be held in his arms, to let her fingertips skim across the planes of his chest and watch how he reacted to her touch. She had never directed any particular attention to his hands before, strong yet gentle, his palms calloused from rigorous weapons training, but now she couldn't help remembering how they'd felt tracing paths on her skin, holding her tight in moments of shared urgency.

And, of course, now that she knew he could kiss the way he'd kissed her earlier, she would never be able to forget it. She had never imagined that a kiss could be so much at once, that it could convey passion, admiration, gentle tenderness, raw hunger, and the fond affection that she had already valued between them. A curious part of her wondered what it would have been like if they had been in love, and that element was added to the already-heady mix. She shut that thought down right away, concerned about where it might lead.

Caught up in all her conflicting thoughts, Sabé wasn't sure if she could really go back to how things had been before, but she was very much aware that she had no choice. But that was tomorrow. Surely they could have a single night to explore what they'd found. A single night out of their entire lives wouldn't shatter the Jedi Code.

Feeling almost shy, she ventured softly, "Will it be seen as attachment or possession if you stay?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, then slowly shook his head, calmly awaiting her next, inevitable question.

"It's not an obligation anymore," she felt compelled to point out. "Would you regret it?"

A brief frown crossed his face. "Regret it? Of course not, what makes you say that?"

She looked away, fighting the blush that threatened to stain her cheeks. "I thought perhaps it would make things…awkward."

"I think we're past awkwardness now. But I'm a Jedi, I'm trained to let things go. I wouldn't want you to bear regrets or…get too involved."

That he hit so close to the path her own thoughts had taken unnerved her, but she brushed it aside. "I have my feet on the ground," she assured him. It was the truth, but she still wasn't sure that it would be enough. "I don't know what will happen," she said, working through her reflections. "Not with this Daedrin thing or the war or any of it. I can't be sure of anything anymore. But…" She looked up to meet his eyes again. "This is real to me. I don't think I want to let it go just yet. Can we not have tonight for ourselves and take duty back in the morning?" Her expression was calm and quietly expectant, and she braced herself for his refusal.

Obi-Wan made no reply other than the steady intensity of his gaze. Just as Sabé was about to babble something to break the silence, he placed a hand on her cheek, drawing closer. Their lips met, her arms twined around his neck, and she once again gave herself up to the intensity of their unexpected connection.

* * *

Sabé wasn't surprised to find herself alone when she woke the next morning. Although she had no regrets about what had happened the night before, she was relieved to see the empty space beside her. Waking up together seemed…too domestic, too comfortable. It would have bred more awkwardness than any of the previous night's activities could have. She couldn't remember if he'd held her while they slept. She wasn't sure if it was wise to find out. Obi-Wan probably knew, but she'd let him keep that secret to himself.

Sabé stretched, wincing as she was reacquainted with sore muscles she hadn't used in a while, and let herself sprawl for a moment. Lying in was a luxury she rarely enjoyed. If she was awake, she was up, not wanting to waste any of her day. And, of course, being a handmaiden meant utilising every minute of time in the most efficient way possible.

After a quick glance at the chrono, she hauled herself out of bed, wrapping the sheet around herself and smoothing down her hair as best as she was able. She ventured out to the lounge, where she found Obi-Wan deep in meditation. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his face radiating an enviable level of tranquillity. Sabé crept away, leaving him in peace, and retreated to the fresher.

Wider awake when she emerged, she tugged on her borrowed security uniform, looking forward to having access to her own clothes again once they reached Padmé's apartment. Sitting in front of the room's single mirror, she braided her damp hair into a thick, chestnut rope, securing it with a simple tie.

Thus attired, she wandered back out to the lounge, where Obi-Wan had not moved a muscle. Although he appeared to be in deep concentration, his eyes flickered open as she approached, and he greeted her with a warm smile.

"Good morning," he said, his tone neutral and friendly, eliminating any doubts Sabé may have had about potential embarrassment between them.

"Good morning," she answered, returning the smile. "Sorry if I disturbed your meditation."

He shook his head at her apology. "You didn't, don't worry." He got fluidly to his feet, automatically dusting his tunic down despite the fact that the carpet was spotless.

"Have you had breakfast?" Sabé asked, trying not to be envious of his seemingly-effortless grace of movement. Idly, she considered how impressed her mother would be to see someone with such natural coordination.

"Not yet, I was waiting for you. And before you ask, no, I haven't been up long." He shot her an impish grin, and she darted her tongue out at him without thinking. He chuckled in response, and Sabé tried not to flush at her immature retort.

"Well then," she said, heading towards the kitchen that was tucked into one corner of the lounge, "I'd better do something about that. Breakfast, I mean." She paused, pivoting to look back at his amused expression. "I'm not the most domestic person, I'll warn you now. But I _can_ do this. So...go back to meditating, I'll let you know when it's ready."

Obi-Wan gave her a quick salute, his face deadpan, then laughed when she wrinkled her nose at him.

Smiling to herself, Sabé set about making a pot of caf, her morning priorities ingrained after many years of early wake-up calls. Soon the smell of the hot liquid filled the apartment, mixing nicely with the warm scent of toasted flatbread. Obi-Wan wandered over to investigate, his eyes lighting up when he spied the caf. Sabé kept her amusement hidden as he poured them both a cup, glad to know that the Jedi Knight had his harmless weaknesses just like she did.

"Where did you find the bread?" he asked as he stirred his drink. "I thought I'd need to go on a supply run."

"It was frozen. There are a couple of other loaves in there too." Lips quirking in a smile, she added, "The Council thinks of everything."

They moved their simple meal to the small table nearby, eating in companionable silence. Obi-Wan was openly amused at Sabé's affection for caf, and she took his teasing good-naturedly. It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that it was partly his fault that she hadn't got much sleep, but she thought it unwise to joke about it, even though she would have paid money to see the look on his face.

"What are your plans for today then?" he asked her conversationally, hands wrapped around his own caf cup.

Sabé considered the question with pursed lips. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "Daedrin thinks I'm with Padmé today, so I suppose that's where I should be."

He nodded in agreement. "Yes, we still can't rule out the possibility that he's watching the places he expects you to be."

"What if it's reported that I'm in your company a lot?" she asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged, seeming more nonchalant than she suspected he truly was. "That's inevitable. The news will come out eventually. The registrar's bound to talk."

She raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. "You think so?"

"I do."

"Even though you paid him off?"

"Especially since we paid him off."

Understanding dawned. "Because Daedrin will still be bothering me if it remains a secret," she surmised.

"Yes," Obi-Wan acknowledged with a nod. "It has to come out, but it must look like we tried to hide it."

Meeting his eyes, she ventured, "It, uh, it won't be easy, you know. When it comes out, even if it's not widely known…"

"I know," Obi-Wan acknowledged, in the calming tones he was so proficient at. "I'll be temporarily suspended from the Order. But my duty is to protect you, and I will do so, no matter the complications."

She thought for an instant that she saw a glimmer of the previous night's intensity in his gaze, but it was gone so fast that she concluded that it was her imagination.

 _Idiot_ , she scolded herself.

Firmly telling herself that she was not disappointed, she turned her attention to her caf cup.

After breakfast, they caught an air taxi to Padmé's apartment block. Sabé kept a look out for her parents' spies, soon spotting one of them sitting on a bench outside the main entrance. He eyed her suspiciously as they passed, then went back to the holomag he appeared to be reading. Obi-Wan shot her a sidelong glance as her anger spiked, and she shook her head minutely.

She explained everything in the turbolift, and was reminded that she wouldn't have to worry about the spies for much longer. Since she knew that that meant she needed to confront her parents, the thought did not comfort her as much as it should have.

At the apartment, Padmé welcomed them graciously. Obi-Wan did not react to her lack of surprise at seeing him there, choosing instead to greet her in his usual gallant fashion. The senator led them into the lounge, calling Teckla for tea. Then, when they were settled, she turned to Sabé.

"Well?" she said, not bothering to hide her curiosity.

Sabé gave a single nod. "It's done. I'm safe for now."

Padmé nodded back, smiling briefly. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, the truth of the statement plain to hear. "You're a good man, Obi-Wan."

He acknowledged the compliment with a warm look, but added simply, "Sabé is a friend. I wasn't going to stand aside and see her married to a man of dubious intentions."

Padmé interest seemed piqued by his words. "You don't trust Senator Daedrin?"

"I don't. The Jedi have…suspicions that he is not all he appears."

Between them, Sabé and Obi-Wan relayed the details of the attack on the Order of Sanctuary member. Padmé was predictably horrified at the story, and immediately offered to do what she could. Sabé and Obi-Wan had discussed Padmé's involvement at length, and Obi-Wan had eventually been convinced that the senator could help. This had pleased Sabé, as she had no intention of hiding anything from her friends.

"Surely this won't be allowed to continue?" Padmé said, her brow furrowed.

"I'm not sure how to proceed at this point," Sabé admitted.

"You'll need to be careful," Padmé advised. "Chancellor Palpatine won't take kindly to an attempt to smear one of his best diplomats. Daedrin must be extremely convincing to have gotten this far."

Obi-Wan nodded sagely. "I agree. We'll have to proceed slowly. The Jedi Council is aware of the situation. They will deal with it, but it will take time. I would appreciate it if you didn't speak of this to anyone else."

"Of course," Padmé said at once, "I understand."

Sabé took a long sip of tea, relishing the light, faintly bitter taste. She had another favour to ask. It felt as if she'd done nothing _but_ ask favours over the last few days, and she silently vowed to even the balance when she was able.

"Padmé, were you serious when you talked about employing me?" she ventured over her tea cup.

Padmé seemed amused by her apologetic tone, the corner of her lips twitching as she nodded. "I was. Do you want the job?"

"The Jedi Council thinks I'll be safer here under Obi-Wan's protection. You _did_ say you'd been meaning to employ another handmaiden."

"I have. Or rather, Captain Typho informs me that I've been meaning to take on another handmaiden."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and Sabé smiled to herself.

"In all seriousness though," Padmé went on, "after Cordé and Versé…I didn't want another handmaiden to die for me."

Sabé threw her a sympathetic look. "I know. But if it helps, it seems likely that someone already wants to kill me, so being in your employment won't make that possibility any more probable than it already is."

The senator let out a burst of laughter, and Obi-Wan politely hid his smirk behind his hand.

"There's a kind of skewed logic to that, I guess," Padmé conceded.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Sabé pacified. "And Obi-Wan will be around to make sure nothing happens to me." She shot him a glance. "Won't you?"

"If I must," he said dryly.

"Yes, you must." Facing Padmé again, she continued, "If you'll have me then, I'd be honoured to return to your service."

Wiping the levity from her face and formally extending a hand, Padmé said, "Welcome aboard, Lady Sabé."

Sabé clasped her friend's hand, bowing her head. "Thank you, my lady."

Both of them dropped the ceremonial behaviour along with their hands.

"I'll have to speak to the Queen," Sabé said thoughtfully. "I hope she'll understand. Not to make too much of my own importance, but the loss of me from her service may give weight to your arguments. I'm the handmaiden with the most experience, and one of only two Order members currently among her attendants. I may not be the best handmaiden ever, but I'm bound to leave a hole."

Padmé nodded her agreement. "That's true. Let me broach the subject with her then. I can raise the topic of repealing the law at the same time, kill two birds with one stone."

"That would be good," Sabé said eagerly. "Then I can speak to her in person when I go back to Naboo."

Padmé set her cup down, shifting forward in her seat. "I've been reading up on the law so I can begin forming an argument against it. I sent you a copy, did you read it?"

"Most of it," Sabé assured.

"Most of it?"

"Mm-hm. Why?"

Padmé slanted an eyebrow, her expression disapproving. "Did you read the part about children?"

Grimacing, Sabé briefly glanced away. "Um…not as such."

Padmé gave an exasperated huff, and snatched up several pieces of flimsi. "How many times, Sabé? _How many times_ , read the small print!"

Wide-eyed, the handmaiden leaned backwards at the heated words. "I had a lot on my mind!" she exclaimed, defensively shrugging.

Obi-Wan raised a hand, his composed bearing completely at odds with the two women. "What does it say?" he asked.

At the sound of his rational question, both women schooled their expressions, focusing on the matter at hand.

"It states," Padmé began, skimming the page, "that if a couple have not had children or a child after two standard years then the marriage can be dissolved."

Sabé bit her lip in concern. "Oh. But...does that count for us? We didn't marry under the law."

"I would argue that it doesn't count," said Padmé, "but there may be those who would say the opposite. It would be best to avoid any additional complications."

"I agree," Obi-Wan answered, frowning. "It seems we've got ourselves a time limit then."

"Surely the Jedi Council won't take that long to find evidence against Daedrin?" Sabé spoke up.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan admitted. "He's left no traces so far. And we have to tread delicately. It could draw out longer than we hope."

Padmé placed a reassuring hand on his sleeve. "I can't help with that, but hopefully, if my campaign is persuasive enough, it won't take that long to repeal the law."

"How did they get away with clauses like that?" Sabé mused, her eyes darting across the page. "I know they wanted to boost the population, but the lack of consideration for freedom of choice is annoyingly one-sided."

Padmé tilted her head in thought. "Yes, I'll be making that argument. And with regards to boosting the population, they probably thought they were being pretty generous with the time limit."

"Probably," Sabé said grudgingly. "That doesn't explain why it only applies to women, though. _Everyone_ had a duty to try and increase the number of children being born, yet it's only the women who were bound by this stupid law."

"Women didn't have as much choice back then," Padmé pointed out sombrely. "That's why there's all that stuff about consummating the marriage, even though young women these days have more of a physical relationship with their partners, and it's not the big deal it used to be. Of course, you could always just lie about it, nobody's going to check."

Sabé inhaled a mouthful of tea and coughed. Obi-Wan patted her on the back, much to her mortification, and she resisted the urge to glare at him.

"Don't worry," Padmé told him, her tone overly bright and cheerful, "she is house-trained, I guarantee it."

"Glad to hear it," he replied with a smile.

"I hate you both," Sabé put in, wiping her streaming eyes.

Padmé smiled serenely, her expression too benevolent for Sabé to stay mad at her for long.

"Are you okay?" the senator asked, observing her scarlet-cheeked friend with one of the surprisingly-maternal looks that she was so good at.

"Tea went down the wrong way," Sabé explained lamely. It sounded stupid even to her.

"I see." Padmé did not appear to be convinced in the slightest, but sat back in her chair with a placid sigh. "Anyway, back on track, is it okay with the two of you if I use you as an example in my speech? By the time I come to give it, the news might be out. If it's not, we can request that the information be kept confidential."

Sabé exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan, her eyebrows raised in question. "I don't have a problem with that," she clarified.

"Nor me," he said.

Padmé gave a nod. "I'll send you both a copy when I'm done writing it."

Obi-Wan excused himself to visit the fresher, and Sabé leaned towards Padmé, her voice hushed.

"What do you think Anakin will think of all this?" she hissed. "Doesn't he resent having to keep your marriage secret?"

"Yes," Padmé whispered back. "I don't know what he'll think. Sometimes he laughs about things and sees the logic behind them…other times he just lets his temper get the better of him."

"Split personality?" Sabé half-joked. It made her feel guilty when she didn't trust Anakin, which happened occasionally.

Padmé let out a short laugh. "Sometimes I wonder," she said, a touch of seriousness amongst the humour in her tone.

Sabé frowned, picking up on her friend's unease. But then Padmé's expression cleared, and she fixed her with a steady gaze.

"About the coughing," she began.

Sabé's eyes narrowed. "What about it? I told you, my tea-"

"Sabé, please. How long have we known one another?"

"Clearly too long," she groused.

"You two aren't lying about it, are you?" Padmé theorised, her voice sounding almost gleeful, her eyes wide with amused disbelief. "You actually… Well. I wouldn't have thought that Obi-Wan would-"

Sabé pressed her fingertips against her eyes. "Please stop talking."

"So…?" Padmé went on, ignoring her words.

Lowering her hands, Sabé glanced at her, startled by her mischievous grin. Sometimes she tended to forget that underneath her determined, professional demeanour, Padmé was a regular young woman who took delight in the same things other young people did.

"So what?" Sabé asked warily.

Padmé quirked an eyebrow. "How was it?"

"That…is between Obi-Wan and myself," the handmaiden spluttered, aware that her flustered behaviour was only causing her friend more entertainment.

"Oh, come on."

"Padmé, I refuse to discuss this with you!"

Padmé opened her mouth to fire another comment, but promptly shut it again when Obi-Wan made a reappearance.

 _Rescued again_ , Sabé thought wryly.

"Padmé," she said aloud, as if continuing a conversation, "you know I never pay attention to what the fashion houses are saying we should be wearing. It's different for you, you're a trend-setter."

"Really?" Padmé muttered, non-committal.

There was a pause as Obi-Wan took his seat once more. His expression didn't indicate that he had any idea of what they'd been discussing since he left, but Sabé had her suspicions regardless. No doubt she'd hear all about it later.

Putting that aside, she turned her focus back to where it should be. "Oh, by the way," she said, remembering, "Daedrin will probably contact you tomorrow, looking for me."

Padmé accepted the knowledge with a nod. "What do you want me to tell him?"

"Just an edited version of the truth," Sabé decided. "That I and my belongings have gone to stay elsewhere."

"He won't believe that I don't know where you are," the senator pointed out.

"But it will be the truth, won't it? You _don't_ know where I am. Nobody does except the Jedi Council."

"Even so…"

"He may find out sooner or later," Obi-Wan cut in. "Those spies of your parents' will no doubt follow us back to the apartment building. Others could do the same."

"But they won't know which apartment we're in," Sabé mused aloud. "The building is huge."

"No, thankfully," he agreed. "It will be easy to lose them once we're inside. That won't be a problem."

"They can't find out about our investigation either," Sabé said fiercely.

Obi-Wan threw her a glance. "There is no ' _our'_ investigation. It's a Jedi investigation."

She fixed him with a warning look. "You can't shut me out of this."

"I'm afraid we can," Obi-Wan shot back sternly.

"I'm involved," she insisted.

"Not to that extent."

Temper flaring, Sabé got angrily to her feet, addressing her words to the top of his head. "Look, I may not be the supreme beings you Jedi are, but I am a skilled warrior, and it is my sisters that are being targeted. I have a right to want to help them."

Obi-Wan rose placidly, putting her at a disadvantage of half a head's height. Still she stared him down, her chin jutting up stubbornly.

Padmé stood too, watching them both with an expression of amusement, feeling the familiar stirrings of suspicion about the nature of their relationship. There were elements at work that they seemed oblivious to, but Padmé was beginning to see.

"You have the right," Obi-Wan said, his voice firm, "but not the freedom. It's not safe for you to be too involved."

"You've never cared about my safety before now!" Sabé's eyes widened the moment the words were out of her mouth. "I'm sorry," she amended with a sigh. "I didn't mean it like that. I just…I've been a security officer for years, and you've never said anything about being concerned."

He met her gaze, his blue eyes full of sincerity. "Of course I was concerned, Sabé, as I am for all my friends who regularly face dangerous situations. But I know better than to interfere with your life."

"But that's exactly what you're doing now!" she retorted.

He fixed her with another steady look. "Security services is one thing, having you in a vulnerable position when there's a murderer on the loose is something else entirely."

"You've got double standards," Sabé stated, pressing her fingertip to his chest in a series of prods, underlining each word.

Obi-Wan remained maddeningly calm. He placed his hands on her upper arms and, annoyingly, she felt herself begin to relax.

"The Jedi will do everything they can to protect your friends," he told her.

"I know," she replied mildly, her voice quiet but laced with steel. "But I would be an asset."

Padmé was watching with rapt attention, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Sabé knew what she was thinking. There was no one in all the galaxy who could bring her out of one of her tempers, except, it seemed, this man.

"I don't deny it," Obi-Wan admitted, "but the Council's orders are–"

"Oh, orders!" she interrupted. "Do you always follow orders?"

"Always," he said, not missing a beat. "Except when I don't."

She raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

Obi-Wan attempted a brief smile. "Sabé, you must realise that this is for your own benefit."

She sighed noisily, unclenching her fists by her sides. "Of course I realise that. I know you mean well, but I don't take kindly to being smothered. You may be my protector, but you're not my babysitter, okay?"

He gave a short nod. "Okay. But I still can't authorise your involvement in a Jedi matter."

"I told you, I'm already involved."

"No, you're not." He narrowed his eyes at her firm expression. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I am, but all I hear is you disagreeing with me."

"Can't think why that would be," he muttered sarcastically.

Padmé held up a hand. "Okay, enough. You're obviously not going to agree on this, and there's no point in going round in circles. You have other things to think about, like talking to Jago and Luma."

Sabé and Obi-Wan continued to stare at each other, their eyes defiant, bright with the spark of challenge. Then, almost in synch, they relented and retook their seats.

"I'm sorry, Padmé," Sabé said. "I'm usually better at keeping my cool."

"You know I'm not stressing this point to annoy you," Obi-Wan told her. "I know how capable you are, but the Council has spoken."

She pulled a face and he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Look," he spoke up eventually, "give them a chance. See how it goes for a month or two, then if you still want to get involved…I'll help you."

Sabé considered it, then nodded. "Deal."

While they shook hands on it, Padmé lowered her head and smiled to herself.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you to everyone who sent good wishes about my health. I'm doing much better :)

There now follows a piece of shameless self-promotion. I hope you forgive me. I just uploaded my first vlog to You Tube, documenting the festival I went to over the weekend. If you're interested in vintage music and fashion or tea-obsessed British people, please check it out :) Search You Tube for Sweet Christabel. My icon is old-school Lara Croft and the video is Twinwood 2018. Thanks!


	9. Handmaiden, Jedi, and In-Laws

**A/N:** It's still Sobiweek over on Tumblr. Go check out all the new content if you haven't already!

To guest reviewer Selena: Thank you, glad you liked it :)

* * *

 **Chapter Nine – Handmaiden, Jedi, and In-Laws.**

They spent the afternoon in one of the Jedi Temple's large training rooms. It was one of the chambers that outsiders were never usually permitted to see, but Obi-Wan, sharing Sabé's restlessness, allowed her access. They occupied one of the sparring mats alongside pairs of training Padawans.

Sabé had brought her blunted practice swords, and she spent a few moments teaching him basic technique. His abilities with a lightsaber already made him a more than proficient swordsman, but he found setbacks in the unusual weight and balance of the weapon. The lightsaber held all its weight in the handle, whereas the sword's was distributed along its entire length.

Sabé won their first rounds with ease, but once he had grown used to it, which did not take long, he won continuously. Sabé was a good-natured loser, accepting a hand up from the mat when necessary and always bracing herself for the next duel. She was a natural with the sword, her body the right combination of strength and lithe grace to allow for fluid movements. She made up for her petite stature by being quick on her feet, often neatly dancing out of his blade's path with inches to spare.

When they were finished with the swords, he began to show her lightsaber technique with a couple of training sabers fixed at the lowest setting. If touched, the blade delivered a burn that was painful but not harmful.

She rose to the challenge but, like him, she found the differences between the two weapons tricky to get used to. Still, she held up well, managing to hold off his attacks for over a minute before a light hit on the leg had her letting out a very unladylike phrase.

"Tired?" he asked with a smirk.

"Nice try," she retorted. "Let's go again, I think I'm getting the hang of it."

He obliged her with a nod, and raised his saber. She attacked with a series of quick strokes that had him pouring all his effort into his defence, but then he found his feet again, rapidly beating her back. Another hit and curse word later, she was calling for a halt.

"I get the picture," she said, her hair untidy, her face shining with perspiration, lit up with a huge grin. "You're better than I am and to challenge you results in pain. Noted. Let's move on."

He laughed. "You were never going to beat me. I have the Force on my side, remember."

"That's cheating," Sabé declared, hands on hips.

"If it makes it easier for you to accept defeat that way, then yes, I was…cheating."

"Or," she amended thoughtfully, "at the very least you had an unfair advantage."

Obi-Wan smiled. "All right, you have me there."

"So we're even then?" she suggested impishly, eyes wide and innocent.

He retorted with a suspicious frown, not buying it. "Well, I wouldn't quite put it–"

"Great!" Sabé interrupted, tone overly bright. "We're even."

"You're infuriating," he told her lightly.

She shot him a grin. "I know."

When it became clear that sparring was over for the day, they packed up and headed back to the apartment. There was no sign of the spies that Sabé's parents had sent after her, but Obi-Wan knew better than to assume that they were not around. He hoped that after they visited Naboo and spoke to the Simmonites in person, the two scouts would be dismissed.

Settled in the apartment that was not quite home yet, they shared dinner and light conversation before retreating to the single sofa for the evening, where their talk turned to more serious matters.

"Have you given any thought to when you want to go back to Naboo?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not really. I think I prefer the idea of talking to my parents over talking to Daedrin, so I guess as soon as possible. Then I can avoid him for a few more days."

"You can't avoid him forever."

"No, I know that." Her lips quirked in a smile. "But I can try."

He gave a brief chuckle.

"I think in a day or two," she went on in a more serious tone. "Or even tomorrow, if you want."

Obi-Wan nodded. "How did you get here?" he asked.

"One of the royal starfighters. I'll need to return it, so if you could lay your hands on a two-seater fighter for the journey back, that would be useful."

"I'll see what I can do. Shall we say the day after tomorrow? I'll need to inform the Council about our plans."

She nodded in agreement "Of course."

They did not return to the topic of the investigation after the dispute in Padmé's apartment. Instead they spent the evening reading or reminiscing about their time stranded on Tatooine.

Obi-Wan knew he had projected an outward appearance of calm acceptance about the entire situation, and on some levels it was a true one. But in order to get there he had battled the same reservations and fears that Sabé herself had no doubt confronted. Although she had not mentioned her troubles, he could almost read her every thought as it danced across her face. In the space of a day he had seen distress, relief, gratitude, concern, apprehension, shock, passion and stubbornness, each one taking its turn to shape her striking features. He knew she had no idea that she was such an open book to him, and he intended to keep it that way. She would be embarrassed to find out how well he could read her.

It had not always been the case. When they had first met, her face and character were hidden behind the royal mask of Queen of Naboo, a mask that, he was later to discover, was not hers. She had worn it well, had almost fooled them all. But he was a Jedi, not to mention the fact that he had had too much time on his hands and too much curiosity about her for his own good. It hadn't taken him long to find the woman underneath the face paint, and to learn that she was as human as her subjects. Then when she and Padmé had begun switching places again, it became obvious to him which was the queen and which the handmaiden.

Sabé, although practically flawless in her portrayal of Padmé, could never be anything other than herself for long. Once he had become aware that there were two queens, Obi-Wan had begun to notice the differences between them. They had both conducted themselves with regal dignity in the face of their homeworld's trouble, yet while Padmé had committed herself fully to the etiquette, Sabé had not been able to disguise the fiery glint of her anger. It had been nothing but a certain sparkle in her dark eyes, but it had been enough for him to notice. It had been at that moment that he had become aware that his witty companion was the decoy and not the monarch.

It was not until after the battle, when she had been his silent support after the death of Qui-Gon, that he had thought to ask her name. She had given it in exchange for a promise of letters, a request that he had granted with pleasure. Thinking back to that time, he had never imagined that their friendship would have led them to a marriage of convenience. Being a Jedi, he had, of course, never imagined that he would have married at all. Possession and attachment were the two dangers always lurking to prevent such an arrangement. They were demons that Ki-Adi-Mundi was constantly fighting to allow him to keep his family. Possession was the easier to contend with, since control of that kind was not healthy in any relationship. But attachment was a slippery slope, subtle in its tendency to slowly develop within a heart so that it escaped notice until the damage was done.

He was still unsure how Mundi managed it. Once or twice he considered that he might not have managed it at all, and that he had somehow found a way to balance the two. Such thoughts were not permitted, of course, and attachment continued to be seen as a starting point for weakness and vulnerability. Obi-Wan didn't agree with it, but he admitted that he had no basis for argument. He didn't have any significant attachments, only his friendships with Anakin, Sabé and his fellow Jedi. So he had no cause to say whether or not it was possible to remain attached and dedicated at the same time.

The Code was vague on the subject of friendships, especially within the Order. It encouraged unity and camaraderie between the Jedi Knights, but neatly glossed over the topic of attachment. Obi-Wan had long been of the opinion that the Code was too archaic, too open to misinterpretation to be followed so literally and with the unquestionable obedience that Padawans and Masters alike were expected to show. It had been written in a different age, and while he agreed that they should not lose sight of their ideals, he could see that if they didn't move with the times it would be easy for them to get left behind.

He was far too aware of the controversy to raise the subject himself. Fortunately, he had the foresight and patience to wait and find others of a like mind before he brought the topic before the Council.

He gave a sigh and Sabé looked up from her data pad. Sabé. His wife. He still couldn't get used to that idea.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern. "You're just staring into space."

"I was thinking," he corrected.

"Careful. Don't do yourself an injury."

He sent her a mock glare and she laughed, her face relaxed and bright with her mirth. Unbidden, the memory of her in his arms, her eyes dark with the intensity of their discovered passion, shot through his mind like a pod racer. He blinked in surprise and the image vanished. It was not the Jedi way to dwell on past events, and he was taken aback to find himself doing so.

Sabé didn't seem to notice anything amiss, continuing to watch him with a calm, level gaze.

"I'm fine," he told her.

"Sure?" she asked with unexpected perception.

"Yes. Don't worry."

She did not look convinced, but gave him a nod and an understanding smile. He smiled back, appreciative of her ability to know when not to push for answers. He couldn't help but briefly wonder just how empty and cold his bed would feel without her.

 _If this is how I react after one night then it's better for us both that we thought to keep it a one-off occurrence_ , he told himself.

He wasn't entirely sure that it had been a wise move in the first place. It certainly hadn't been on his mind when Sabé had asked for his help, nor had it played a part in swaying his decision.

His immediate reaction to most situations was to help in any way he was able. Sabé's heartfelt plea and obvious distress had spoken to his compassionate nature, not to mention what he knew of Daedrin. But her cry for help had demanded he give more of himself than usual, and it had needed careful thought before he had agreed. He knew that he had kept her waiting for an answer, but he hadn't wanted to do her an injustice by replying before he was sure.

After consideration, he had realised how little the new arrangement would affect his life. The only change would be that he would spend more time in Sabé's company, and that was by no means unwelcome. In the eleven years of their correspondence, they had only been able to meet in person a handful of times. He knew her well, yet in some ways he didn't know her at all. He had wondered if the marriage would serve to strengthen the ties of their friendship. The Force always gave him an indication of which people he needed in his life, and Sabé was one of them. With that in mind, and the knowledge that he would be able to keep her safe, he had agreed. As soon as the words had been spoken, he had felt a ripple of comforting assurance from the Force that had told him he had made the right decision.

He did not expect to find himself so caught up in her. He had seen in her eyes that she did not expect it either. They had both been drawn into the tidal wave of sensation, feeling and instinct, so uncommon and thrilling in its novelty. It had gone against everything he had ever been taught, even the Code itself. _There is no passion, there is serenity._ But to him it had been both, it had felt right. And that confused him immeasurably. He had been taught to follow the Code and to listen to his instincts, but those two instructions had never opposed each other as they did where Sabé was concerned. He wondered what it meant, whether it meant anything at all, and if it would turn out to be a mistake or some kind of providence.

At least there wouldn't be the same fear of additional complications that had occurred with Satine. Sabé had firmly assured him that her contraceptive implant was well-maintained and functioning. _That_ would have been difficult to explain to the Council.

He glanced at the data pad in his hand, accepting that he wouldn't be looking at it at any point that evening. He leaned forward and placed it on the low table that Sabé had propped her feet on, then stood.

"I think I'll retire," he announced.

Sabé quirked an eyebrow and nodded. "It is getting on for midnight," she said in apparent agreement, lifting her feet off the table and standing, her motion precise and elegant.

They stood in silence for a while, both uncomfortable in the midst of the first moment of awkwardness they had experienced.

Sabé pointed a finger in the vague direction of her room. "I should…"

Obi-Wan hastily gestured her forward. "Of course. Good night."

"Good night."

She faltered a little, seemingly unable to decide if she was supposed to hug him, kiss his cheek or do nothing. Eventually she settled on a smile, then practically ran to her door. Obi-Wan watched her departing back, raising a hand to his chin as he reflected on the unease of their parting, hoping it was not an omen of how things would be between them now.

Putting it out of his mind, he prepared for bed and settled down to sleep, slipping into a light meditation to coax his body into rest. The bed did seem awfully large for one person alone.

Opening his eyes to allow himself a glare into the darkness, he chided himself for his foolishness and once more attempted to quieten his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to him, on the other side of the wall, Sabé was doing the same.

* * *

The following day, Sabé spent her time lying low in the apartment, thoroughly bored but aware of the foolhardiness of leaving. The Council meeting took Obi-Wan away from her for half the day, and when he returned he was bearing a message written on flimsi.

"Handed to me by a young lady called Teckla," he told her.

Sabé nodded. "She's a handmaiden of Padmé's."

"Another Order member?"

"No. But Moteé is. I hope she's been warned of the danger she might be in." Unfolding the note, she skimmed it quickly, translating Padmé's vague message with ease. "Daedrin is looking for me," she reported.

Obi-Wan seemed unsurprised. "We knew he would."

"Yes." She felt utterly fed up at the news, however predictable it was.

"The Council have given me use of a starfighter for the journey tomorrow," Obi-Wan told her, "so we can leave whenever you're ready."

"Let's not leave it too late," Sabé said after some consideration. "I think… Well, even with the trouble they've caused, I wouldn't want to worry my parents. They must have heard that I've gone missing by now."

He nodded his understanding.

Struck by a stab of bitterness, she added, "Gods know why I'm considering their feelings since they don't seem to care for mine, but there you go."

Obi-Wan said nothing, but sent her the kind of smile that implied he was sympathetic to how she was feeling.

The following morning, they departed as soon as they were both up and dressed. Sabé carried a single bag containing a gown and accessories. Her mother was an old-fashioned woman, who preferred to see her daughter in the dresses befitting her rank rather than a jumpsuit and boots. Sabé always chose outfits in Luma's favourite styles and colours when she had something particularly unpleasant to tell her.

They docked their ships in the palace hangar, then headed to Sabé's suite so that she could change. When she was tidier, they took a slow walk to Jago and Luma's apartment, a walk that seemed to get more painstaking the further they went.

"Is it my imagination," Ob-Wan said, breaking the companionable silence, "or are you moving slower?"

"It's your imagination," Sabé said firmly, pausing to tip a fictitious pebble out of her shoe.

"I see. I never would have thought it possible."

"What?"

"That the Lady Sabé, who has stood up to the droid armies of the Trade Federation, would show more fear at the prospect of seeing her own parents than she did in the face of battle."

Not able to think of a witty retort, Sabé settled for a huff and folded her arms, sending the long, sweeping sleeves of her gown flapping. He was right, of course, and knew it, judging by the smirk he was failing to hide. Irked by his perception and his amusement at her behaviour, Sabé quickened her pace. She was acting like a child, she knew that. Unpleasant scenes with her parents tended to bring it out in her.

In a time far too short for Sabé's liking, they reached the apartment. The Simmonite protocol droid, D8-420, answered the door.

"Miss Simmonite, how lovely to see you back," the droid said, its female voice programmed to have the familiar gushing tones heard so often from protocol droids.

"Thank you," Sabé replied. "I'm here to see my parents."

"Oh. I was not aware they were expecting you."

"They're not. Are they here?"

"Of course. They're in the lounge. I'll take you through."

They followed the droid through the bright, white-painted corridors to the lounge, a large yet comfortable room, with windows overlooking the pristine garden. Jago and Luma were seated on one of the curved sofas, sharing a pot of tea and softly spoken conversation.

"Master Jago, Mistress Luma, Miss Syrena is here to see you," D8-420 announced.

Both of them leapt to their feet at once, their faces etched with a mixture of concern and relief. Sabé stepped back a fraction to stand at Obi-Wan's side, trying to put forward the notion that he was not a bodyguard. She knew well that her parents would almost consider him a servant if they thought him appointed to her by the Council.

"Syrena!" Luma cried, hurrying over to clasp her daughter's hand.

Jago swiftly followed. "Are you all right?"

A little taken aback by their greeting, Sabé nodded, smiling at them both in what she hoped was a reassuring way. She wasn't sure how else to react. "I'm fine," she told them.

"Where have you been?" Luma asked sharply, always the first to jump directly to the point. Her anxiety apparently appeased, she was back on usual form. "You left here in such a rush, and then vanished almost as soon as you got to Coruscant."

Sabé grimaced, unable to decide whether her mother was brazenly barefaced about her spies or if she had simply been careless with her speech. Her guilt at causing her parents to worry suddenly dispersed.

"Well, you would know," she said placidly, her words revealing the barest hint of her anger. "Send spies after me again, Mother, and then watch how fast I disappear."

Her parents had the grace to look sheepish.

"We worry about you," Jago said, his tone unapologetic.

"Worry? That wasn't worry," Sabé retorted hotly. "That was controlling. That was making sure I met Senator Daedrin as you planned."

She felt the lightest of touches to the back of her arm. Instantly grounded, she fought to quieten her temper.

"Why couldn't you just take my word for it?" she asked in a softer tone. "I did as I said I would."

"The main thing is you're safe," Luma cut in, making a blatant attempt to smooth things over. Turning, she unceremoniously thrust the teacups at D8-420 and ordered refreshments.

"Please tell us what you've been doing to necessitate a Jedi protector," Jago said, his stern brow wrinkled in a frown, his words shattering Sabé's intentions of making Obi-Wan appear as an equal. "I take it my daughter is safe with you, Jedi…?"

"Master Obi-Wan Kenobi," Obi-Wan offered with a respectful bow. "Sabé is highly capable, but yes, she is always safe with me."

"Could I have my hand back, do you think?" Sabé asked her mother.

Luma glanced down and released the hand in question. "Oh. Sorry, dear." And then, quick as a flash, she reached for it again. "What's this?" She held up Sabé's hand, where the plain silver wedding band shone.

"Ah…" Sabé muttered with a sinking heart. That was not how she had intended to raise the topic. "That? That's what I came to talk to you about. I'm…married."

"Well, this is wonderful!" Luma beamed.

Sabé looked at her in open confusion. "It is?"

"Of course! You've saved us all the trouble of planning a wedding, not to mention the expense." Luma was not the sort of woman to lament missing her big moment as mother of the bride.

Jago placed his hands on his wife's shoulders, one of the rare, affectionate gestures that reminded Sabé that her parents' union was not entirely a convenient one.

"Why did you not bring your husband with you?" he asked, his expression warm.

"I did," Sabé said edgily. Behind her, she heard Obi-Wan let out an almost-silent, weary sigh. Like her, he could see that the conversation was hurtling towards a messier conclusion than they'd planned.

Luma glanced around, as if expecting Senator Daedrin to burst out of a cupboard bearing a banner reading 'surprise'.

"Senator Daedrin is here?"

"No," Sabé answered, keeping her voice calm and level. "Senator Daedrin is on Coruscant. I hope. I have…married Obi-Wan."

There was crushing silence for a horrible, awkward moment, and then, unexpectedly, a snigger from Luma.

"Don't be absurd. Jedi aren't allowed to marry."

"We obtained a dispensation from the Council," Sabé explained.

"They would never have granted it, not for something like this," her mother laughed.

"If this is an attempt to get out of marrying Senator Daedrin, you haven't really thought it through," Jago put in, fixing his daughter with a severe, hard look.

Riled by their reactions, Sabé felt her palms grow hot as she clenched her fists. She was comforted by Obi-Wan's steady presence at her side. They had both agreed beforehand that she should do most of the talking, but his stillness was almost as reassuring as his words. His expression was carefully guarded, but he seemed unsurprised at Jago and Luma's response.

Wordlessly, Sabé drew a folded piece of flimsi from her pocket. Luma snatched it and read it, Jago peering over her shoulder.

"I'm not sorry," Sabé murmured, as they both stared at her in shock. "I won't be used in your plans. I know you thought Daedrin would be a suitable match for me, but I disagree."

Luma glanced again at the marriage certificate in her hand. "And how exactly is a Jedi a better match for you?" she asked coldly. "He has no money, not even any possessions to speak of, nothing to bring to the marriage."

Obi-Wan raised a single eyebrow at the barefaced statement, but kept his silence.

"Ugh, you've never understood! I don't care, Mother," Sabé said heatedly. "It's not about that. At all. I earn enough to keep myself. And besides, Obi-Wan brings protection, companionship and honour to the marriage, which is far more important to me than wealth."

"So you're not in love then?" Jago asked. "This isn't some runaway marriage?"

Sabé shook her head. "No. We're old friends. Obi-Wan fought with me in the Battle of Naboo eleven years ago."

A flicker of recognition and grudging respect lit Jago's grey eyes. Luma, however, still looked stony.

"How did you get the Jedi Council to grant you a dispensation?" she asked. "They don't just hand them out on a whim."

Sabé glanced at Obi-Wan, unsure how much she was permitted to reveal.

"I'm afraid we can't say," he spoke up. "But it was decided with Sabé's safety in mind."

"That's extremely convenient," Luma pointed out.

"Perhaps so," Sabé agreed, "but it also happens to be true."

Silence hung again, as weighty and prominent as if there was another person present. Then D8-420 bustled in with a tray, breaking the tension. The droid began busying itself with sorting cups, but quickly exited when Luma gave a short, snapped order. Nobody moved to help themselves to tea.

"So," Jago said at length, "to recap, you've deliberately gone against our wishes and married yourself to this Jedi."

"I have."

Jago gave a deep sigh, looking, for a moment, every one of his fifty-nine years. "Well, my dear, I only hope that this plan does not backfire on you."

Sabé nodded mutely, unsure what to say to a comment she was not anticipating. "I don't expect it to," she said eventually.

"No one ever does."

"And what about Senator Daedrin?" Luma asked.

Sabé glanced at her mother, a small smile playing about her lips as she made a rapid decision. "Oh. I leave it to you to explain the situation to him."

As one, her parents and Obi-Wan turned to stare at her.

"I'm sorry, you're doing what?" Luma exclaimed. "You can't possibly…"

Sabé held up a hand, cutting her off. "You can talk to him, Mother, I have no wish to. You started this, you can finish it."

Her mother pressed her lips together in a thin line of disapproval before saying, "He deserves to hear it from you."

"He deserves nothing of the sort," Sabé scoffed. "He never proposed to me, therefore I have nothing to refuse. This whole state of affairs is your doing."

Her parents exchanged a glance, and Jago shrugged his shoulders.

"Technically, she's right," he said, his tone heavily laced with reluctance.

"You won't avoid a confrontation this way," Obi-Wan told her.

"I know that. That's not the point." She shot him a warning look, communicating her desire not to be lectured to.

"All right," Jago spoke up, "we'll talk to him. But you should too."

Sabé gave a humourless laugh. "I doubt I'll have a choice in the matter. If you'll excuse us now, Obi-Wan and I have things we need to do."

"Syrena," Jago said gently, searching her face, "is this really what you want?"

Sabé met his gaze boldly. "No, Father. It's not what I want, nor what Obi-Wan wants. But what choice did you leave me?"

* * *

 **A/N:** I credit working in pharmacy for giving me good droid names.


	10. Confrontation

**A/N:** I'm so sorry for the delay. Life Stuff happened. Also, whilst editing this chapter I belatedly realised that I should probably have promoted Panaka. He surely wouldn't still be a captain at this point, right? Since I'm not going to go back and change the previous chapters, however, he's going to have to stay one.

* * *

 **Chapter Ten – Confrontation.**

When business with Queen Neeyutnee and her parents had been concluded, Sabé knew that she could not put off departure any longer. After their argument in the wake of Padmé's appointment as senator, Sabé had never imagined that she and her former queen would work together again. Now that it was happening, she was eager for the change, not to mention the convenient distance from her parents. Still, it was with some reluctance that she gathered her belongings into bags and prepared to leave Naboo. She was somewhat surprised at how neatly her old life packed away into a small collection of cases. Somehow she had assumed that she had made more of an impact on her suite of rooms at the palace ,but she had packed everything in under an hour, leaving the room exactly as it had been when she had moved in.

She lingered a little longer, saying the necessary goodbyes to those she would miss and avoiding those she would not. Obi-Wan trailed silently in her wake, seemingly content to let his mind wander while she conducted her business, although she doubted that the Jedi Master _ever_ simply let his mind wander. It was more likely that he was partaking in some form of waking meditation.

Eventually, however, she ran out of delaying tactics. Well aware that she should not have been delaying at all, (and that Captain Panaka would have more than a few colourful words to say if he knew of her behaviour), Sabé took a moment to collect her thoughts. She needed to stop thinking like a woman in potential danger and start thinking like a soldier once more. The inevitable confrontation with Daedrin was just another battle to be fought. She needed to move past the uneasy feeling his presence inspired and focus on the facts: namely that they were most likely to meet in a public forum, where he would be limited in his actions. She could handle that easily enough. And if luck really wasn't on her side and she found herself alone with him, well… It would be of academic interest to find out if all her training and experience could match up to the skills of a deadly assassin.

She straightened her posture and lifted her chin, instantly feeling more confident than she had in days. She was not a helpless victim. She was Sabé, bodyguard to the elite, high-ranking official of the Order of Sanctuary, and she _refused_ to die for someone else's gain.

 _I will not be cowed,_ she told herself firmly. _Not now, not ever._

Obi-Wan tilted his head in interested appraisal, and Sabé realised he had been watching her every move. He gave a nod in response to her renewed tenacity and smiled.

"I'm ready now," she told him.

"I know," he said.

* * *

Obi-Wan was well-practiced in the art of observing a lot while looking nonchalantly innocent, an art that he had perfected over many years. It was something he had tried hard to pass on to Anakin, with little success. His former Padawan always lacked subtlety.

As Sabé returned to Coruscant and her position in Padmé's entourage, Obi-Wan was watchful, searching for anything amiss. He didn't know enough of Daedrin to guess what his reaction might be. The senator was an enigma wrapped in many layers of deceit and corruption. Sabé grasped that they needed to tread more carefully than ever around him, something that Obi-Wan was sincerely grateful for. He never needed to explain things to her, she always thought things through just as thoroughly as he did. It was refreshing.

There was a confrontation on the horizon. They both knew it. Now they had returned to Coruscant, it was only a matter of time before Daedrin's path crossed with Sabé's, either by design or in a professional capacity. If the senator really was targeting Order of Sanctuary members, Sabé had lost all chance of whatever protection he might have offered her if she had agreed to become his wife. Exactly how safe she would have been was still unclear, and Obi-Wan was grateful that she wouldn't find out first-hand.

The altercation occurred within a day of their return. Padmé was attending a session in the Senate, requiring Sabé to accompany her with Teckla while Moteé visited a sick friend. As they made their way through the corridors of the Senate building, several of the senators whispered among themselves, questioning why Padmé needed the protection of two handmaidens, a chief of security _and_ a Jedi Master.

Obi-Wan walked behind the women with Captain Typho, keeping his senses on alert. Daedrin would be unavoidably present, and Obi-Wan knew that he would no doubt have heard the news from the Simmonites. Sabé's shoulders were tense beneath her crimson hooded cloak, her Force signature sporadic with her anxiety. She knew it too.

Daedrin's entourage came face to face with Padmé's as they rounded the bend of the Senate building's gently curved corridors. Daedrin bowed first to Padmé, as was correct, but then immediately moved to meet Sabé head-on. Obi-Wan stepped up to her side, not wishing to fight her battles for her, but unable to stand quietly.

"I wish you had told me plainly that your heart lay elsewhere," Daedrin began, his tone polite but lacking in warmth.

"My heart is still in my own keeping," Sabé returned formally. "This had nothing to do with it. I did not wish to be a pawn of my parents and the law forbade me from refusing, so I took matters into my own hands. I'm sorry that you were caught up in their plans to further their ambition." Her voice was calm, courteous, and gave no hint of either the worries she had harboured or that she suspected him to be a murderer.

"Even still," he pressed on, "you should have told me." He took half a step closer to her, lowering his voice. "Or was it that you were using me to get back at your parents by making them explain the situation?"

Sabé stood her ground. Obi-Wan couldn't see her face, but he imagined her expression was stern, judging by the beginnings of a smirk at the corners of Daedrin's mouth. He felt a ripple of annoyance on Sabé's behalf and swiftly quashed it.

"I felt that it was their duty to inform you, since they were the ones that got us both into this," she shot back coolly.

There was a heavy pause. In his peripheral vision, Obi-Wan could see Padmé hovering, evidently wondering whether she should step in.

"For your sake, I do hope you're being honest with me," Daedrin said smoothly. His eyes were glacial, holding back none of his anger. He was clearly not a man who was willing to accept being made to feel foolish.

Captain Typho moved forward to stand at Obi-Wan's side, further back-up behind Sabé's cloaked figure, while Teckla stood ramrod-straight to her left.

"For your sake," Sabé returned, "I do hope that isn't a threat."

Daedrin smiled, but it was as false as all his courtesy. "I like you, Sabé. You have guts. I'm disappointed that you decided to take this course. Still, I'm sure we'll meet again. From time to time. Excuse me, Senator Amidala." With that, he continued on his way, his aides shooting Sabé curious looks as they passed her.

"You all right?" Typho asked quietly.

Sabé nodded, letting out a breathy sigh. "I'm fine, Gregar. Thanks for the support. Padmé, I'm so sorry that had to happen while I was on duty."

Padmé shook her head, waving off the apology. "It was always going to happen this way. I'm glad it's over with."

"So am I."

She turned to meet Obi-Wan's gaze, and he studied her face. She was telling the truth about being fine, but there was a shaky edge to her serene countenance. She nodded slightly at his unspoken question, and he knew that she was fit to continue her shift of duty.

Padmé continued to walk the corridor. Sabé and Teckla fell into step behind her. Obi-Wan glanced at Typho, who was keeping pace beside him.

"Thank you," he said in a low tone. "I'm glad Sabé has defence other than me, although I know your first duty is to Senator Amidala."

Typho shot him a look. "Of course. Sabé's my oldest friend, I would never let anything happen to her."

They shared a smile of understanding before facing forward again. During the series of incidents that had started the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan had found Typho more help in protecting the senator than the distracted Anakin had been. They had built up the foundations of camaraderie and trust in the few days they had worked together. He was glad to have the younger man's backing once again.

Obi-Wan waited in the alcove entrance to the Naboo pod while the Senate was in session, able to observe and hear what was going on without drawing attention. The Jedi Council had expressly ordered him not to sit in the pod with the senatorial party, as it would spark a negative reaction if the Jedi were thought to be supporting a particular system.

Padmé was not as vocal as she usually was, apparently not overly interested in the issues raised. When the session was over, she sent Obi-Wan an apologetic glance.

"This must be so boring for you, Master Kenobi."

"Not at all", he assured her truthfully. "Sometimes it's helpful to listen to the political side of things. It's easy to forget the complexities of the situation out on the frontlines."

Padmé nodded her understanding. "I suppose you see things in terms of battle strategy and attack plans, one system at a time."

"It can seem that way," he agreed. "The bigger picture can get lost when you're busy trying to focus on smaller details."

The party moved out from the main chamber, back onto the curved corridors surrounding it. They made their way back to Padmé's apartment, where Sabé made herself busy with fixing lunch. Obi-Wan followed her into the kitchen to speak a few words in private.

"I need to report to the Council about the run-in with Daedrin," he began. "I'll come back and pick you up from here later, if that suits you."

"No problem," she replied, never taking her focus off her task.

"How are you? You seemed a little shaken, despite being fine."

She gave him a quick glance and what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. "I _am_ fine. I was a bit shaken but I'm okay now. I just wasn't sure what to expect. He's...I don't know, he always strikes me as volatile. It will be easier to see him again now that this first time is out of the way, now that I know he intends to be civil."

"Yes," he agreed. "We must be cautious though. He may target you sooner rather than later, since you're here on Coruscant, within easy grasp."

"I'll be cautious," Sabé promised. "We must keep an ear out for news of him planning trips to Naboo too. The majority of the Order members will still be there."

Obi-Wan leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, folding his arms. "Are there many of you on Coruscant that you know of?"

"I only know of myself and Moteé," Sabé replied, cutting starfruit into segments, her blade quick and precise. "I can contact the Order and ask. I have high-level clearance, so they should tell me what I need to know." Lowering the knife, she shot him a thoughtful look. "Should I warn them?"

He considered the question. It seemed the right path to take, to make sure that the Order was on their guard. But since the Jedi investigation was top secret and to be kept quiet, he didn't know what they would want Sabé to do.

"I'll check with the Council," he told her. "They may prefer a need for secrecy."

Sabé frowned at the chopping board. "I would prefer that my sisters be aware of any potential threats. These are lives at risk, after all."

"Yes, I know," he told her, in complete agreement but aware that he was bound by what the Council decided. "I'll raise the point with the Council. I'll see you later."

"You're not staying for lunch?" she asked, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

"I'm not hungry."

"You should eat, you know," Sabé scolded lightly.

He gave a brief chuckle, but didn't comment on it. "I'll be back later," he said, then swiftly departed.

* * *

Sabé served Padmé her meal, and the senator ate it whilst looking over her notes from the morning's Senate session. Padmé kept a meticulous archive of records that she always appropriately tagged and labelled. It was a laborious way to sort her notes after each session, but saved her a lot of time if she needed to refer back to things later.

Sabé ate in the kitchen with Gregar, happy to leave Padmé with her political documents, knowing that the senator would barely notice what was on her plate, let alone whether or not she had company.

See-Threepio was fussing around the kitchen when she got back there, and she shooed him out to find something useful to do.

"Thank you," Gregar said earnestly. "He was starting to drive me crazy."

"You've only been in here five minutes," Sabé countered, amused.

"It was a very long five minutes," he insisted, pouring her a cup of caf.

Sabé nodded her thanks, hopping up onto a stool. She leaned over the cup and took a deep, appreciative sniff.

"It's good having you around again," Gregar spoke up between bites. "You make me feel so much better about my own caf addiction."

"It's good to be with you two again," she admitted with a smile, ignoring his jibe. "I didn't want to leave, but I think I've been working for the Royal House for too long. I missed you both. The palace is no fun at all without all three of us there."

"How we misused those secret passages!" He grinned, reaching for a slice of bread.

"Well, how else was Padmé supposed to escape and actually have a life?" Sabé asked defensively. "She needed us, Gregar. I think she would have gone insane if we hadn't reminded her that she was human and not some…I don't know…Queen-shaped droid."

Gregar gave a laugh. "Thank the Gods my uncle never found out! He would never have authorised my promotion to the rank of captain!"

"You know how fond I am of your uncle, but he's too severe," Sabé said between mouthfuls of fruit. "There's more to life than duty."

Gregar snorted. "That, coming from you, is so rare, I wish I'd recorded it."

"Shut up! I have a life beyond my duty."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Sabé pulled a face at him. "I…write things. Letters to people…okay, _a_ person. I…occasionally run away to get married to said person. And…I…well, um…" She slumped, letting out a grunt. "Okay, you're right. I have no life at all. Satisfied?"

"Yes. I love being right."

Sabé held up her fork. "Be nice to me, or I'll poke out your other eye."

Gregar laughed and took a sip of caf. "You're lucky I'm not sensitive about that."

"If you were, I wouldn't have said it," Sabé told him with a smile.

"I know."

There was a companionable silence as they finished up their food. Sabé glanced at her chrono, making sure that she was not taking too long. She knew Padmé would be a while sorting her notes, but she had things to do in the meantime, and Teckla needed her break.

"I'm glad things worked out with Obi-Wan," Gregar said, cutting through her reflections.

"Me too," she put in. "Definitely one of the weirder things I've ever asked a friend to do."

"I wouldn't plan on making it a habit," he advised seriously, the glint of humour in his eye giving him away.

She fixed him with a jaded look. "Thank you for that."

"Any time." He saluted her with his caf cup.

Sabé shook her head, saying fondly, "Idiot."

"Takes one to know one," Gregar shot back without missing a beat.

She sighed loudly, curling her hands around her drink. "So," she began, approaching a more serious topic. "Is Padmé always this work-obsessed and distant? Or have I just been away too long?"

A shadow crossed Gregar's face and he leaned back in his seat. "It's kind of hard for me to tell, she's always a little guarded around me. But...she always works hard. She's happy you're back, but...I don't know, I think whatever you two argued about when she took the position of senator might have something to do with it."

Sabé grimaced. "I was afraid it might be that. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed away, but...we'd never argued like that before. It left its mark. She's friendly with me now, but it's not exactly like it used to be."

"She never told me what it was about," he said with a shrug. "I think I can guess though. You stuck up for me, didn't you?"

"Ah..." Sabé muttered, embarrassed. "I did. I know I shouldn't have gotten involved really, but I couldn't help saying something. I kind of wish I hadn't, I don't think it helped in the slightest, and it just caused a rift between Padmé and me."

"That's why you chose to stay behind and serve Queen Jamillia," Gregar surmised.

She nodded, smiling without humour. "Yes. Pure avoidance. Not my proudest moment."

Sabé thought back to that heated discussion, which had taken place only moments after Padmé had agreed to become Naboo's senatorial representative.

" _Padmé, I thought you had decided to retire from public service. You wanted to! You said you were looking forward to being a regular citizen again. What changed?"_

" _Nothing. Part of me still wants that. But I couldn't refuse a request like this, not from the Queen. She thinks Naboo still needs me. How could I turn that down?"_

" _She's been Queen for three days, how can she know what Naboo needs yet? You deserve to think of yourself for once."_

" _Captain Typho will be my chief of security. I'll be assigned three handmaidens. There's a place for you still, if you want it."_

" _Captain Typho? What happened to Gregar?"_

" _It…wouldn't be professional to think of him that way."_

" _But your plans to live quietly in the lake country, that was going to be an opportunity for you two. I thought that was what you wanted too. Especially after last night."_

" _That should never have happened. It…was a mistake, Sabé. I shouldn't have…_ We _shouldn't have…"_

" _You know he loves you. You're too kind-hearted to lead him on. What happened would never have occurred if you didn't feel something too."_

" _It was…it could have been the beginning of something, but not anymore. Our relationship must be strictly professional. He's always felt that the difference between our social classes was too great."_

" _That was while you were Queen. He waited until you'd stepped down. He waited for you, Padmé!"_

" _He won't accept it now that I'm a senator. I know he'll never overstep his boundaries. And frankly–"_

" _You'll break his heart if you do this."_

"… _Frankly I'm relieved that whatever it was is over before…before I…loved him."_

" _Padmé, you already love him. You're just too busy burying your head in politics to do anything about it. Thank you for your very kind offer, but I would prefer to remain in service to the Queen. Goodbye."_

She had stormed off after that, and hadn't spoken a word to Padmé before the new senator had departed for her apartment on Coruscant. Of course, they'd made up to an extent once Sabé had cooled down, but the subject was never raised again.

"I didn't agree with her decision to become senator," Sabé confessed. "On grounds of it not being fair to you. Or her."

"That's sweet of you, but I think I always knew that her loyalty to Naboo would outweigh anything she might have once felt for me." He shifted forward, reaching for his caf cup, taking sips between sentences. "It's what makes her so good at her job. Her people love her and need her. Nobody else speaks for them the way she does. I just...can't imagine taking that away from the people for selfish reasons of my own. Maybe I'd want to, deep down, but I'm not sure I could live with the guilt."

Sabé reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. "You must be as selfless as a Jedi, Gregar."

He gave a short laugh. "I don't know about that. I heard they can control their emotions. I've just learned to hide mine. I forgave her for becoming senator, but when she married Skywalker…I considered leaving her service."

Sabé looked at him, surprised. "I didn't know that. Nobody would have blamed you."

" _I_ would have, eventually," he said with certainty. "I told you before, I could never leave her. I can only sleep at night knowing that she's under my protection. She's the safest woman in the galaxy because of the way I feel about her."

Lowering her voice, Sabé confided, "For the record, I disagree with her decision to marry Anakin. It was a stupid, reckless thing to do, and they should have both known better."

"I guess falling in love makes you impulsive," Gregar said acrimoniously, shrugging. "But I can't really blame her. I know it's my fault."

"What? How can you think that?"

"I chose duty over her. I chose to follow the rules of social position and etiquette when I could have ignored them all for her love." He glanced down at the table top, his expression contorting as he recollected the source of his bitterness. "And then Skywalker sweeps in, younger, taller, more handsome than me, and spouts this awkward speech about how beautiful she is. He paid her compliments, he risked everything to be with her. How could she not fall for him?"

Sabé squeezed his hand, letting out a quiet sigh. "I can't pretend to know what goes on in Padmé's head, but I do know that whatever she felt for you was genuine. And...I've never been convinced that it's entirely gone, despite what she may feel for Anakin."

"She's married. It's done."

"It's...well, yes, I guess, but..."

"I appreciate that you're trying to help, Sabé, but please, I don't want to talk about it." He shot her a quick, insincere smile, the kind that said that he didn't feel like smiling, but neither did he want to offend her.

Sabé nodded, withdrawing her hand. "Of course. Whatever you want."

"I need to go and speak to my team. I'll see you later." He rose and left the kitchen before she could reply.

Sabé exhaled noisily and slumped forward, letting her forehead rest on the cool table top. Her two friends had been a constant worry for her ever since Padmé had married Anakin. It wasn't that she didn't like the young Jedi, but she firmly believed that he shouldn't have pressured Padmé into a secret marriage. And judging by her melancholy behaviour, Padmé was beginning to see it as a mistake too.

She wondered why nothing was ever simple. If it had been, Padmé would have stayed on Naboo and been with Gregar, and she herself would not have been forced to enter into a marriage of convenience to avoid a potentially murderous senator. Suddenly her life seemed too dramatic and complex to be real, the events of the past few days weighing heavily on her shoulders.

 _I'm living in a holo drama_ , she realised with a groan.

She heard footsteps in the corridor, but didn't bother to raise her head. The steps halted in the doorway as their owner took in the scene, then continued on their way to the cooler unit.

"It went well then," came Moteé's voice.

"What went well?" said Sabé, her breath fogging up the table top.

"Your meeting with Senator Daedrin."

"Perfectly. He resents me and possibly wants to bang my parents' heads together," Sabé reported cheerfully. "How's your friend?"

"Oh...she'll be fine. She seems to be recuperating."

"That's good."

There was a pause. Then Moteé cleared her throat. "Shall I fetch Senator Amidala's leftovers? Or were you planning to do it with the power of your mind?"

Sabé sat up straight, adjusting to the slight dizziness she had brought on herself. Moteé's expression was a bizarre mixture of stern and amused. She took a sip from the glass of water in her hand, awaiting the answer.

"I'll go." Sabé slipped off her stool and headed for the door. A sudden thought occurring to her, she turned. "What do you mean, leftovers?"

"She always has leftovers. I haven't seen her eat a full meal in weeks."

"Right," Sabé nodded, frowning.

They exchanged a worried look, which Moteé tried to gloss over with a faint smile. "I think she's just stressed. I hope so, anyway."

"Me too," Sabé murmured distractedly, all sorts of scenarios racing through her head to explain her friend's loss of appetite. Turning her attention back to her fellow handmaiden, she added, "I'll go and see. Leave the plates, I'll sort them."

With that, she spun and walked the short distance up to Padmé's office. True to Moteé's word, there was a portion of food still on her plate.

"Was lunch to your liking, M'lady?" she could not resist asking, picking it up and examining how much she'd eaten.

"It was fine, thank you, Sabé," Padmé replied, not taking her eyes off her data pad.

Sabé watched her for a few moments, then quietly asked, "Padmé, is everything all right?"

"Of course," the senator answered, scribbling some illegible notes on a piece of flimsi. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You tell me."

Padmé finally looked up, and her brow creased in a frown. "Why do you have a red mark on your forehead?"

Sabé pulled her hood lower. "No reason."

Setting down her pen, Padmé folded her arms on her desk. "I spoke to the Queen, by the way. There'll be an opportunity for me to present my arguments for revoking the marriage law, but it won't be for a few months."

"A few months?" Sabé repeated, surprised. She'd known the courts moved slowly, but...

"The council has other issues to deal with before ours. We just have to be patient, Sabé."

Sabé picked up her empty cup, nodding reluctantly. "I can do that. When I have to. Are you sure you don't want anything else to eat?"

"I'm fine, really," Padmé insisted, traces of annoyance creeping into her voice for the first time. "I need to get back to work," she said finally, picking up the pen once more.

Taking the thinly-veiled hint, Sabé bowed and left her alone.

* * *

When Obi-Wan returned to the apartment, Sabé and Gregar were sitting at a small table in the lounge, bouncing security ideas back and forth. Sabé knew from one glance at his expression that something was wrong. She immediately leapt up from her seat and approached him, not liking the grim set of his mouth.

"What is it?"

He glanced at her, his eyes full of compassion. "Our investigator tracked down an Order member who was staying at 500 Republica. She was found dead outside her employer's apartment this afternoon."

Sabé clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms in an attempt to calm her burst of anger. "Who was she?"

"Her employer said she was called Petré."

Sabé closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. "I knew her. I trained with her. She was serving Lord Demara, wasn't she?"

"Yes. He's unnerved that someone could have attacked his security team. He's gone into hiding for the time being, although considering what we know, there really isn't much point to that."

"I have to warn the Order, Obi-Wan, they need to know what's happening here." She fixed him with her most insistent look, unprepared to back down on the issue. Investigation-compromising it may be, but lives were at stake.

Fortunately, he nodded. "The Council agrees. They said that considering the nature of the Order, they can be trusted to be on the alert without raising suspicion."

Sabé felt a small weight leave the burden on her shoulders. She didn't want to have to argue with Obi-Wan, not any more than she already had. She knew he was on her side.

"That's good," she said earnestly. "I'm relieved, to be honest. I'm not sure what I would have done if they'd refused. Made a nuisance of myself, I guess. Why was Demara here, anyway? From what I hear, he rarely leaves his mansion on the outskirts of Theed."

"From what we can gather, he was simply here visiting friends," Obi-Wan explained, dismissively. "There's something else, though. Daedrin has an alibi."

Sabé frowned, battling the stirrings of confusion and resentment "What?"

"Petré's time of death is estimated to be between 13 and 1400 hours. Daedrin was in his office at the Senate at that time. Which means that either we were mistaken, or-"

"He has an accomplice," Sabé spat. "Do we have any leads on who?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, looking weary. "No," he answered succinctly, sounding thoroughly irritated at the fact. "Whoever committed the murder looped the security feed first."

Sabé reached out and placed a hand on one of his folded arms. "This has to stop. I know you don't want me involved in the investigation, but if my insider knowledge can help in any way your investigator has to let me know. I can't sit back and hear more and more of these reports."

"I know," he agreed, running a hand through his hair. The gesture betrayed his fatigue and made him seem very human. Jedi were not all-powerful, after all. "I will tell you if there's a way you can help, Sabé. I give you my word."

They held each other's gaze for a long, drawn out moment.

"Trust me," Obi-Wan added.

"You know I do."

Gregar cleared his throat, and they both turned sharply to look at him. He gave a small, apologetic smile.

"Hi. Is there any news on your marriage yet? The HoloNet is usually pretty quick to pick up this sort of thing."

"There have been one or two reports," Obi-Wan told him. "The Council is due to release its statement tomorrow morning. I'm to be suspended for three months for acting without their permission, but I'm not expelled because I technically haven't breached the Code."

"Three months?" Sabé repeated with wide eyes. "I was hoping it would all blow over soon. I hate all this negativity, especially since it's my fault."

"I've been through far worse," Obi-Wan reassured, managing to inject humour into his tone. "It's almost a holiday."

"You worry too much, Sabé," Gregar put in.

"Only because I care," she said defensively, walking away and resting her nail-stabbed hands on the back of the chair she had been sitting in.

"And it's to your credit," Obi-Wan said sincerely, "but you need to trust in the people around you. We will get to the bottom of these murders, and those responsible will be brought to justice. Rushing into things and needlessly worrying won't help anyone."

"Patience. Is that what you're stressing here?"

"In a word, yes."

"I am being patient," she stated, unsure if it was really true. "But it's difficult to maintain when my colleagues are being slaughtered and I have no idea why."

Obi-Wan looked as if he shared her frustrations. "I know," he muttered. "I know."

And she knew that as with everything else he'd said that evening, it was the absolute truth.


	11. Melancholy

**A/N:** Time for some girl talk between Sabé and Padmé.

To the guest reviewer: It's understandable if you don't like Padmé in this story. She's a little more flawed than she was allowed to be in the movies. She's made some bad decisions for bad reasons and has hurt more than just herself. Now she has to deal with the consequences. She's not perfect, she's capable of making mistakes, just like everyone else.

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven – Melancholy.**

 _Two days ago._

Coruscant's underworld had responded quickly when Daedein put out word that he was seeking an accomplice. He already knew what specifics he was looking for, and so it did not take him long to narrow down the candidates. He wasn't asking for much, only the most efficient and skilled human female assassin he could find. He knew at once when the right one landed in his lap, figuratively speaking. She was everything he'd been searching for and more, almost too perfect for what he had in mind. So it came as no surprise that Chancellor Palpatine had pointed her in his direction.

Within minutes of their meeting, she sauntered into the apartment he'd rented as a base of operations, surveying the decor with a faint air of distaste. He couldn't blame her, the place was in one of Coruscant's less reputable districts. She sank down onto one of the cleaner chairs and scrutinised him, one eyebrow arched.

"My contact said you needed help," she said.

There was only one other person besides himself who knew the location of the apartment. "The Chancellor," Daedein stated flatly.

She didn't reply, but her silence was answer enough.

"I do need help," he admitted conversationally. "You'll be well paid, of course."

"I know. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

Daedein had one or two comments he'd like to have made, but he kept his silence. He needed to know where the land lay first. One of his priorities when meeting new acquaintances was to read them as well as he could, discover what could get to them, whether they could be manipulated and how. His new accomplice was as blank-faced as a droid, purposely cold and aloof, but her manner was spiky. Spikiness, he knew, often hid bitterness, and bitterness could be exploited.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked, determined to be polite even if she wasn't.

"No."

"Do you mind if I do?"

"No."

He turned his back on her, rolling his eyes, and dug a bottle out of the supplies he'd brought with him. He set it on the table, rifling for a glass. In the bottle's skewed reflection, he could see her appraising him with a blank expression.

"So," he began, spinning back around, drink in hand, "how much do you know about Naboo's Order of Sanctuary?"

For the first time, she smiled, a lazy, conceited smile. "I know more than you do," she said with confidence. "I used to be in it."

* * *

 _Present day._

"This is Sabé calling Temple, I repeat, Sabé calling Temple, please respond." She sat waiting for a reply, the secure channel open on the com unit in front of her.

When an Order member left the centre of operations, she was more or less on her own. She could always return, but she belonged to her place of employment rather than to the Order. However, the elders always ensured that their warriors could reach them, and the Temple was a safe haven for those who needed it.

"Temple?" Obi-Wan asked softly. He was sitting not far away, listening but trying not to be intrusive.

"Yes," Sabé replied, frowning at the silence she was getting through the com. "The Order was very strongly influenced by the Jedi back in the day. To the point where it's actually a little embarrassing and I wonder if we should be fined for plagiarism."

He let out a brief laugh and she smiled in response.

There was a sudden burst of static, followed by a woman's voice. "This is Atté. We're receiving you, Sabé. What's the matter?"

"Is this channel secure on your end?" Sabé asked quickly.

Atté answered in straightforward reassurance. "Yes. Go ahead."

"You need to be on your guard," Sabé warned her. "I'm on Coruscant, and it seems that someone here has been attacking Order members. Naharé and Petré are both down, and I suspect that we are being targeted. I don't know why. I expect the murderer to travel to Naboo at some point to look for the Temple."

There was a brief pause as Atté processed the information. "Copy that, Sabé," she said brusquely, her manner professional, her tone hiding her concern. "We will act accordingly."

"An investigation is underway as we speak, so hopefully the attacker will be caught before we lose any more of us."

"Are you part of the investigation?" Atté asked.

Sabé tried to keep her irritation out of her voice as she replied. "No, I'm not."

Atté retorted sharply, "Who is conducting it?"

Sabé glanced at Obi-Wan, one eyebrow raised in question. He nodded at once, apparently having anticipated it.

"The Jedi," she told Atté. "But they're doing it strictly off the record for now. Nobody must know."

"I understand. We'll keep it to ourselves, and raise security in the meantime."

"How many Order members are here on Coruscant at the moment?" Sabé asked. "I only know of myself and Moteé."

"We'll send word to those off-planet," Atté assured her. "Thank you for this intelligence."

"You're welcome."

"Keep an eye on the investigation if you're able," Atté instructed. "Stay alert and focus on your duty."

"Copy that."

"Temple out." The communication faded with a quiet fizzle.

Sabé sat back in her chair, her mind eased a little. With the Temple on alert and those on duty warned, perhaps there was a chance that the murderer would be hindered.

"I've done all I can," she said out loud, scrubbing her face with her hands. "I guess now I just have to wait."

"As do we all," Obi-Wan reminded her. "I wouldn't have thought that Daedein, or whoever it is, would be stupid enough to attempt another hit anytime soon."

Sabé swivelled round to look at him, resting her folded arms along the top of the chair. "No, he did strike me as being more intelligent than that. He and his accomplice have killed two in quick succession, he must know that we'd be suspicious by now."

"I would have thought so."

"Mm."

He frowned at her. "Is there something else on your mind?"

She blinked, then shook her head. "No. Nothing that would concern you anyway. Don't worry."

He nodded, but looked far from convinced. In truth, Sabé was worried about Padmé, and wondered when she would get the time to have a proper talk with her friend. It was plain to her that the senator was not happy.

She glanced up at him. He was watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. She shot him a questioning look.

"You look tired," he said by way of an explanation.

"I am tired. I was thinking of heading to bed, actually." She stood, covering a yawn with her hand.

"Sleep well," he said warmly.

She smiled. "You too."

* * *

Padmé was not surprised when Sabé appeared at her apartment a few days later, despite the fact that it was her day off. She knew that her friend had noticed her bleak mood. She had tried to hide it, but always found it difficult to fool Sabé, who had spent a large portion of her youth observing and imitating her.

"Where's Obi-Wan?" Padmé asked, already used to seeing her handmaiden with the Jedi Master in tow.

"He's checking in with the investigator at the Jedi Temple," Sabé explained. "I decided I would be safe enough paying a social call."

"But you only saw me yesterday!" Padmé pointed out with a laugh.

"Serving you tea and following you around the Senate building is not 'seeing you'," Sabé insisted, her expression a resolute frown. "We need to talk. You know, like we used to."

Padmé felt her barriers automatically rise, and she quashed the feeling. Talking over her problems with her friends had always helped in the past. Although the complexity and gravity of the problems she had now made her reluctant to share them, she knew Sabé meant well. Maybe, deep down, she had been hoping that _someone_ would ask.

"Okay," she said finally, biting back the refusal that part of her wanted to give. "I guess I have been bottling things up for a while. And since I know you won't drop this any time soon…"

"All I know is that you're not happy," Sabé said, her tone gentle but firm. "And I don't like to see it."

Padmé resisted the urge to sigh. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Frankly, yes. It doesn't seem like normal stress is the cause."

Not for the first time, Padmé considered regretting that her friend was so intuitive. It was a momentary consideration that she never gave any serious thought to. Sabé's perceptiveness was what made her so good at her job, and made her so loyal a best friend.

"I'm just worried," she said, "that's all. There's a lot on my mind right now, what with the war and knowing that Anakin is out on the frontlines."

"I don't doubt that you're concerned for Anakin," Sabé began, clasping her hands together in a way that betrayed her apprehension about the subject she was raising, "but when he's not here it's like he's completely out of your life. You just carry on like normal, like life never changed for Senator Amidala."

Padmé shot her a frown. "Well of course I carry on. What else am I supposed to do? Just sit around moping until he gets back?"

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

Padmé watched as Sabé scrambled for the right words, taking a slow saunter out onto the open veranda that gave the apartment's marble-floored lounge its impressive, stage-like appearance. Padmé joined her, content to watch the criss-crossing lanes of traffic that streaked lazily across the sky until her friend was ready to speak again.

"You and I were always honest with each other," Sabé said, changing her tactic. "When we were growing up we always shared our dark secrets."

"Don't all friends do that?" Padmé pondered aloud.

"Perhaps," the handmaiden said with mild pensiveness. "My point is, I feel we've lost our way. We've been drifting apart. I know that it's partly my fault...with the argument...but it's not all me. Maybe that started it, but it's got steadily worse since then. I worry about you when I can see something's wrong and you won't share what it is."

It briefly crossed Padmé's mind to let her temper flare up, to accuse Sabé of nosiness and tell her to drop it. But truthfully, she felt too tired for that. She felt confused by the doubts being raised by her own conscience, and longed to get someone else's input.

Gathering her voluminous skirts around her, she walked down the steps at the edge of the veranda, sitting down at the top. Sabé joined her, tucking the fabric of her more modest gown around her legs. In the lounge behind them, Teckla was busy cleaning, humming softly under her breath as she worked. Despite the energy shield that separated them from it, Padmé knew that the noise of the planet-wide city would swallow her words before they could reach the room, so she did not fear being overheard.

"I know your opinion regarding my marriage," she began, trying to edge her way into explaining the tangle of thoughts.

Sabé nodded, apparently not keen to start on a negative point by repeating her thoughts on that subject.

"I was…arrogant," she admitted awkwardly. "I didn't listen to you or Obi-Wan when you told me to end things with Anakin."

Sabé's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Obi-Wan told you to…"

"He came to see me after Geonosis, to tell me to break it off. I promised him I would. I meant it too, at the time. I even requested that Anakin escort me home, so I would have an opportunity to break it to him gently. But it was so difficult, Sabé." The words came out in a rush, and she clasped her hands tightly. "He wouldn't even let me explain, he just kept saying how much he loved me and that he...needed me in his life. He...accused me of leading him on, because I had been the one to start things on Geonosis."

With an air of caution, Sabé ventured, "What happened on Geonosis?"

Padmé felt a flush of embarrassment as she recalled how she'd behaved. "I...I said some things I shouldn't have, but I wasn't thinking straight. I thought we were about to die. And in that moment I felt that...I did love him." She took a deep breath, gaze fixed on the traffic lines, although she did not really see them. "Until that moment, I hadn't said it. I hadn't really felt it. For me, it hadn't been long enough, but he seemed so _sure_. And there was something. He had swept into my life, swept me off my feet. I know that's a cliché, but that's how it was. He was completely open with his feelings, and I wasn't used to that. His honesty and the way he kept looking at me romanced me. It was just…so intense."

Sabé leaned her elbows on her knees, her mouth set in a thin line of disapproval.

"I know," Padmé said before she could speak, "I should have known better. Don't punish me, Sabé, I _know_. He asked me to marry him. I refused. I tried to say that duty should come first, but he wouldn't listen. I told him that we didn't need to get married, that I would be happy just being with him, but he wouldn't have that either. He insisted."

Frowning as she tried to comprehend, Sabé asked, "Why?"

Padmé had wondered that herself more than once. It still puzzled her. "I don't know. Reassurance, maybe. He never likes to think of me being with anyone else. Even when he specifically asked me about my past relationships, he hated it when I answered."

"You told him about Ian Lago?" Sabé asked incredulously.

"No. I knew he'd hate that, since Ian's father was involved in politics. I didn't mention Clovis for the same reason. Thank the Gods I didn't, seeing how they reacted to each other during that mission I went on to Cato Neimodia."

Sabé's eyes widened. "You didn't tell him about Gregar. Did you?"

"Not directly," Padmé disclosed. "I just…couldn't. They'd met at that point, and I just had this…feeling…that it was a bad idea."

"So what did you do?"

"I made someone up. I said I met a boy when I was twelve. I called him Palo, but I found myself giving him Gregar's description."

Padmé fell silent as she remembered her words. _"He was a few years older than I. Very cute...dark curly hair...dreamy eyes."_

Gregar as he had been when she'd first met him. Of course, life as a soldier had swiftly removed any hint of dreaminess from his eyes, especially after he lost one of them. But she still recalled the more innocent, eighteen-year-old Gregar, who had met her at one of the security training grounds and had barely taken his eyes off her. She had been disguised as a handmaiden, training with the rest of them to ensure that, newly-elected Queen or not, she was as capable as the others.

"And Anakin didn't like hearing it?" Sabé asked, breaking through her reminisces.

Padmé jumped a little at her friend's words, but quickly found her narrative stride again. "No, not at all. He got jealous almost at once. It...made me a little uneasy. And I had that at the back of my mind the whole time he was trying to convince me to marry him. That and the fact that the Jedi Code was against the whole thing."

Sabé's frown of confusion spoke volumes. "But you said yes."

"I...yes, eventually. And...truthfully, it was against my better judgement." She almost felt like a traitor for saying so, but she couldn't pretend it was otherwise anymore. "He persuaded me. Our relationship seemed like such a wonderful, storybook romance, it was so easy to get lost in it. I agreed to it. I never thought it would be a good idea, but I didn't see what the harm was."

"Can I ask you a question you won't like?" Sabé said bluntly, fixing her with a grim look.

Padmé eyed her warily. "I guess so."

"I don't want to pick sides, but...I have to know...did you think about Gregar at all while you were doing this?"

Padmé opened her mouth to speak, but found herself mute. The words stuck in her throat, as if they knew that saying them aloud would make it all seem so much worse than it had at the time.

"Padmé?"

"I…yes, of course," she choked out. "But he had made his position very clear, he wanted nothing to do with me while I was senator." Her voice dropped suddenly as she mused out loud, and she was vaguely aware of Sabé leaning over to catch her quiet words. "I was…proud. In a way, resentful, even though I knew he was only doing what he felt was right. The irony is, I would have thought less of him if he hadn't stuck to his principles. How twisted does that make me?"

"Not at all. It makes you human."

Padmé straightened up, hugging her knees. "Anyway, I agreed to marry Anakin. I vowed to pledge myself to him, and put aside any feeling I might have had for Gregar. I told myself that I had found a man who wasn't afraid to be with me, no matter what."

Sabé frowned. "That's unfair, Padmé."

"I know," she shot back quickly, her tone sharp. "I wasn't in the mood to be fair. It had been two years since that night, the one we don't talk about. He had never been anything but courteous and professional with me since then, and I convinced myself that he couldn't love me as much as he claimed. But…" she trailed off, swallowing a small lump in her throat, "…when I had to tell him about the marriage…he said nothing, he bore it without flinching, but the look he gave me…" In a murmur she added, "It haunts me sometimes. So much concealed pain. And all because of me. I knew then that I had misjudged him. In the worst possible way."

Sabé's expression had become openly sad and sympathetic during her speech. Padmé found it difficult to bear.

"And Anakin still doesn't know?" her friend said gently.

Padmé shook her head, the beads on her headdress tinkling softly. "No. It's best that he never does. I didn't want to regret my decision to marry him, but...it became clear very quickly that it was a mistake...in many ways."

"What do you mean?"

"We should have put duty first. And I was naive...or stupid, not sure which...to think that..." She halted, frustrated at her lack of clarity. "It was never going to work, opening a new chapter with Anakin without first closing one with Gregar. How can I help but wonder...? Things might have been very different."

"Yes," Sabé agreed in a low voice.

"And then Anakin," Padmé went on. "I love him, I do, but...there's…a darkness in him sometimes, it scares me."

Sabé stared at her, wide-eyed, her posture suddenly tense. "Darkness? What do you mean?"

Padmé shifted uncomfortably, clasping her hands in her lap. "He seems prone to feelings that the Jedi are meant to renounce. Aside from his attachment to me…anger, jealousy, quick temper…possessiveness. I may not be an expert on the rules of the Jedi, but I do know that much."

"Possessiveness isn't good, Padmé," Sabé said gravely. "Even in a normal relationship."

"I know. I should have picked up the hint in the way he reacted to the Palo story. He can't stand the thought of me with anyone else, even past relationships. When it became apparent, it was already too late to back out." She sighed, collecting her thoughts. "It was during the wedding night. He was adamant about checking that he hadn't hurt me, even though I told him I was fine. When he realised that I hadn't bled, he knew he hadn't been the first. His reaction completely threw me off guard. It was so unnecessary."

There was an awkward pause. Padmé glanced at her companion, almost embarrassed to find out how she was reacting to the story. Sabé's face was severe, the blunt angles of her jaw more prominent than usual as she held back her anger. It was a look Padmé had seen many times before and could recognise instantly.

"Was he violent?" Sabé asked, her words sounding thick behind her clenched teeth.

"No, not really. But he was angry, and I couldn't work out why. Then it hit me that it was jealousy. It seemed insane that he would be jealous over things that had happened before I'd even met him again. I reminded him that I'd had a life in the ten years that had passed since I'd seen him last. Eventually he calmed down and even apologised, but I could see that it still bothered him. I didn't rest easy that night."

Sabé visibly relaxed, but her tenseness betrayed her lingering unease. "I'm fairly sure I know the answer to this," she said, "but there hasn't been anyone other than Anakin and Gregar, has there?"

Padmé shook her head, the warmth of a faint blush creeping over her cheeks.

"You can tell me to shut up if you want," Sabé went on, "but…that must have been difficult…to have Gregar at the back of your mind. I mean, considering that things hadn't been resolved there."

"It wasn't easy," Padmé confessed dolefully. "I couldn't help but be reminded…"

She didn't elaborate further. There were some things that she didn't wish to share, even with Sabé. And there was a particular truth that she barely admitted to herself, let alone anyone else. Namely, that her physical relationship with Anakin left her cold, almost numb. She felt warmth and affection for him, but in that situation it just wasn't enough. It didn't compare to what she'd felt with Gregar. It was unfair. She took her marriage vows seriously, and she had wanted it to work. But she was beginning to realise that her love for Anakin was not what he hoped it was. It was there, it always would be, but it wasn't enough.

"I'm not in love with Anakin," she found herself saying. The statement sounded even harsher spoken out loud.

There was an awful, heavy sort of pause. Padmé gave a groan, burying her face in her hands. She felt Sabé slip an arm around her shoulders.

"I've been really stupid, haven't I?" she muttered. "What sort of horrible, selfish person am I?"

"I'm not going to pretend that this will sort itself out easily," Sabé said calmly. "But it _can_ be sorted out, Padmé. Starting with you. You need to decide what to do. If you think you can love Anakin in the way he wants, then by all means stay married to him. But if you don't, you owe it to him to end it."

"You make it sound so simple," Padmé muttered. "It's not that I don't love him, I just… I'm not _in_ love with him. He's so volatile, sometimes I don't know what to expect. And…" She let out a deep, bone-weary sigh. "Oh, Sabé. Is it possible to love two people at once?"

"Absolutely. Types of love can be as unique as fingerprints." Her friend halted, glancing at the toes of her boots as she chose her next words. "But," she added firmly, "there should only be one person you feel you want to spend your life with." Then she shrugged. "Unless you're capable of polygamy, of course, and somehow I doubt Anakin would go for that."

Padmé gave an unexpected snort of laughter, and Sabé grinned impishly, clearly pleased with herself for lightening the tone.

Sobering rapidly, Padmé stared out across the sprawl of the Senate district, smoothing non-existent creases in her skirt. "I got myself into this mess, but I swore I'd find a way to make the marriage work. I told myself that my feelings for Anakin would grow and alter, but…it's been a year, and the way I feel hasn't changed."

"What about the way you feel for Gregar?" Sabé asked in a whisper, no doubt aware that the man himself was in the apartment somewhere.

"I…" Padmé hesitated, considering. "I don't know how I feel," she confessed. "There's something. I feel safe when he's around. And there was how things were before…But I don't know, Sabé. Things are so different now, and there's hurt between us."

"Some things don't change."

"He probably hates me."

"You know that's not true," Sabé said sensibly. "If you're having these thoughts at all, you know that things aren't right with Anakin."

Padmé nodded. "Yes, I know. But maybe I should try. I made vows to him after all."

"Well that's up to you," Sabé stated sagely, sending her a reassuring smile. "But whatever you decide, you know I'm always here if you need me."

Padmé offered her friend a watery smile and they hugged awkwardly on the steps.

"Thank you," she said genuinely. "When I offered you this job I truly wanted to help you, but I was also concerned. I knew this conversation had to happen and I was dreading it, but you were right. It helps to share this with someone. Thank you for forcing me to."

"Will you be okay?"

She wasn't sure how to answer that truthfully. "I hope so."

"When is Anakin back next?"

"I don't know. Soon, I think."

Sabé fixed her with a stern look. "You need to decide what to do before then."

"I know. I'll try, but it's difficult to know what to do." She dabbed the skin under her eyes with her fingertips, trying to wipe away the few tears that escaped without removing any make-up. Keen to change the subject, she asked, "What about you anyway? How's married life?"

Sabé raised her eyebrows slightly at the change of direction, but replied, "Normal. Which is unusual by everyone else's standards. Why?"

"Just asking," Padmé defended. "Is it strange? Living with Obi-Wan?"

"A little, but we get along well. It works. I just wish there was solid progress in getting to the bottom of what's going on. I'm not allowed to know _anything_ about the investigation the Jedi are conducting. It's so frustrating. I want to know what anyone would stand to gain from murdering the Order."

Padmé leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands. "I'm not sure. You protect important people, so the logical reason to kill Order members would be to get to who they guard. But no one's been touched except for the security. Maybe it's a sick form of advertising. Someone wants to offer their assassination services."

Sabé pulled a face. "That's a horrible thought. No offence, but I hope you're wrong."

"So do I."

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the bustle of the city, feeling the gentle breeze that drifted through the particles of the energy shield.

"Sabé," Padmé began after a while, "do you ever wonder whether your marriage to Obi-Wan might affect your chances of forming romantic relationships with other people?"

Sabé looked slightly taken aback, but took the question in her stride. "Um…no, not really. I've had relationships in the past, I'm not looking for one now."

"Why not? Not that you need one, I was just wondering."

"Precisely that: I don't need one. I don't feel that anything is lacking from my life."

"You never miss some things about being in love?"

Sabé wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing her body in towards her chest. It was bordering on defensive. "I don't think I've ever been in love."

Padmé's eyes widened. That was news to her. "Really? What about what's-his-name?"

"Killric? Gods, no!"

"No? I thought you were close."

"We were close, but I never loved him," Sabé explained with a shrug. "In the end I realised he didn't really know me all that well, and he didn't seem interested in rectifying that. It was a relief that we parted ways. I wonder what he's doing now," she pondered, in a tone that suggested she didn't much care about the answer.

"You've never been in love," Padmé stated out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. During the early days with Gregar, Sabé had seemed to take so much delight in watching the unfolding story between them that Padmé had always assumed she had a romantic nature underneath her blunt ways.

"No, never," the handmaiden said thoughtfully. "Something always…I don't know. Prevented me, I guess."

"Prevented you. Why?"

"I don't know! You know me, Padmé, I take my duties very seriously. Just yesterday Gregar told me I have no life."

Padmé glanced at her friend, searching her face for deception. "Maybe it's because there was always someone else at the back of your mind."

Sabé looked at her suspiciously. "I don't know what you're talking about." Despite her stubborn conduct, there was an edginess to her demeanour that suggested that she knew full well who Padmé was alluding to.

Padmé had long suspected that there was more than friendship between Sabé and Obi-Wan. On Sabé's part, at least. Obi-Wan was a prime example of perfect Jedi behaviour. Sabé had never stated her feelings, or even hinted at them, and Padmé had finally accepted the fact that her friend was completely oblivious to her own emotions.

"Okay," Padmé said simply.

"I really hate it when you do that," Sabé grumbled.

Padmé smiled, amused at her tone. "I know."

They heard soft footfalls on the veranda behind them, and they both turned in unison. Moteé stood there, her hood shading her eyes from the glint of sunlight on transparisteel.

"Excuse me, M'lady," the handmaiden began, a slight frown on her face at the lack of etiquette that Padmé and Sabé were indulging in. "Senator Organa of Alderaan is here to see you."

"Thank you, Moteé, I'll be right there. Please get him a drink if he wants one."

Moteé bowed and disappeared up the steps to the apartment's more formal lounge.

Padmé and Sabé rose to their feet and dusted off their skirts. They made their way back into the shade, pausing to let their eyes adjust to the change of light.

"However this situation pans out," Padmé spoke up frankly, "I know that you have my back. And I'm glad."

Sabé nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll always have your back, Padmé. And besides, you're doing so much for me, fighting the marriage law."

"Well, I appreciate it."

Sabé reached out and squeezed her shoulder, the corners of her mouth lifting in a tiny smile. "Think. That's all you need to do, Padmé. If you really love him, you'll know the right thing to do."

"If I really love him? What if he no longer loves me?" Seeing Sabé's single raised eyebrow, she added, "You were talking about Gregar, right?"

"I wasn't talking about either one of them specifically." Sabé's smile widened. "Interesting."

Padmé felt her cheeks redden. "Oh, stop it."

"It's okay, I'm going. Take some time to yourself when Senator Organa has left. Meditate like we used to do in training. It helps me when I have things to sort out. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right."

Sabé gave a nod, then left her alone.

Padmé remained where she was for a moment, composing herself. She badly needed to clear her head, but she knew it would have to wait until she had spoken to Bail Organa.

Sabé's footsteps merged with a second pair on the stairs she'd vanished up, then faded. The new steps grew steadily louder, finally revealing Gregar. He was reading a data pad as he walked, his hat tucked under his arm.

Padmé made herself move, conscious of her guest in the lounge upstairs. At the sound of her shoes on the marble, he looked up, clearly not expecting to see her there.

"Oh. Apologies, M'lady, I thought you were with Senator Organa."

"I'm on my way now," she explained. "At ease, Captain."

His lips quirked in something that was almost a smile, and he gave a neat half-bow that was bordering on flippant. "As you say, M'lady."

Padmé nodded to him and continued up the steps, heart pounding. She paused at the top, trying not to let her worries consume her. She had things to do that required her to have a cool head. Promising herself some quality time for soul-searching later, she straightened up, squared her shoulders, and stepped into the role of Senator Amidala.


	12. Before The Court

**A/N:** Sorry it's been so long, guys. Going through a tough time at the moment, so just trying to carry on as normal and keep up with productive projects while I claw my way back out of the hole.

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve – Before the Court.**

Coruscant was always a welcome sight for Anakin Skywalker. It wasn't sandy, for one thing, something that a childhood on Tatooine made him appreciate daily. Coruscant meant rest, a break from the war, friends…home. He was fortunate enough to have two of those: the Jedi Temple and Padmé's apartment, but it didn't matter to Anakin where Padmé was. Her presence was enough to make him feel he was where he belonged. From the first moment he'd set eyes on her, before she was anything but a nameless stranger, he'd known that he would make her his. He'd known it, even though he'd only been nine years old and unable to grasp what it really meant.

As his ship touched down on a landing pad at the Temple, he made his decision. The moment he was done reporting to the Council, he'd go to her and surprise her. He liked to do that, even though she'd scolded him for it in the past. It was true it was a risk, Padmé often held meetings at her apartment, but they had history dating back to the invasion of Naboo, so it was not so unusual that he should pay her a social call.

The session with the Council turned out to be long and laborious, and it was almost sunset when Anakin was at liberty to leave the Temple. He couldn't wait to see Padmé again. Sometimes it felt as if she was the only thing that kept the shadows at bay.

A handmaiden answered the door to him, her look of surprise evident on her face. Anakin brought a finger up to his lips before she could speak, not wanting her to give him away. She seemed irked by the request, but nodded and kept her silence. She knew who he was, after all. He'd seen her before, but her name escaped him.

Leaving her behind him, Anakin began his search of the apartment, eager to seek out Padmé. It didn't take him long to find her in the veranda lounge. She was slumped on the sofa, a data pad resting loosely in one hand on her lap. Her eyes were closed, and one side of her hair was mildly dishevelled where she'd been leaning on it. It wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep while working late. He halted for a moment, watching her, a smile spreading its way across his face. She was angelic when she slept.

Moving quietly, he crossed the lounge to crouch down in front of her, resting a hand on her leg. She mumbled incoherently, losing her grip on the data pad. She woke with a start when it slid off her lap, making a clumsy grasp at thin air. Anakin caught it smoothly, chuckling. Padmé let out a noise that was half gasp, half yell, and he gripped her arm with his free hand.

"Hey, easy, it's me," he soothed.

"Anakin?" she said incredulously, raising a hand to her chest as she caught her breath. "You startled me."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you."

He handed her the data pad and she took it, setting it on her pile of flimsi notes.

"I…uh…" she muttered, flustered. "You should have let me know you were coming."

"And spoil the surprise?"

She fixed him with an unreadable look. "I would have been awake, at least."

"You're awake now," he pointed out with a smile.

He rose to sit beside her and she straightened up, smoothing her hair.

"Did Moteé offer you a drink?" Padmé asked conversationally.

"I don't need anything," he assured her. "Just you."

She didn't smile as he'd expected she would. Anakin studied her, frowning, wondering if she was just woozy from sleep. Something about her definitely seemed…off.

"I'm glad you're safe," Padmé said, more warmth creeping into her voice. "Truly. I just…I wish you'd give me some notice before you turn up here."

A traitorous and painfully-familiar sliver of thought began to whisper petty suspicions in his mind. "Why?" he spoke up levelly.

She glanced at him, seeming surprised by the question. "Why? Because I receive dignitaries here, I hold conference calls with my team back on Naboo, I host dinner parties, sometimes I'm out…many reasons, Anakin, and they're not unreasonable. If anyone sees you here who shouldn't…"

"Are you trying to keep me away?" he snapped, before the thought was even fully-formed.

She narrowed her eyes in response, and he felt a ripple of regret at his harsh tone. But still, the whispers would not be silenced.

"That's not what it's about," Padmé retorted. "I told you why."

"You haven't even kissed me yet," he groused.

She didn't reply, gazing down at her clasped hands in her lap. Anakin reached out to the Force, searching for signatures in the apartment that had no business being there. He was used to the handmaidens and the Chief of Security, so their presence did not trouble him. There were a couple of new regular visitors, though. One presence was familiar, but only at the faint edges of his memory, someone he'd met only a handful of times. The other…as recognisable to him as Padmé's: his old master.

Reaching out for her shoulder, he turned Padmé towards him, choosing not to acknowledge the look of shock on her face. "Obi-Wan has been here, hasn't he?"

"Yes," she answered at once, "he's here most days."

"Why?"

"Anakin, there's something–"

"Why would he need to come here? What's going on?"

Her anger finally finding its way into her tone, Padmé shot back, "I would tell you if you gave me chance."

Jealousy blinded him to her wariness and growing distress. His fear of losing her was intense. It ruled his every waking moment, made him leap straight to the worst-case scenario.

"Are you having an affair with him?" Anakin said without thinking.

Padmé was quiet for so long that he almost doubted whether he'd actually voiced the question aloud. Her face was an open book, declaring her shocked, concerned, and a little hurt.

"No," she told him at length, the word icy cold.

"No?" he repeated doubtfully. "Then why would he come here?"

There was more to it than she was saying, he could tell. He could think of no reason why Obi-Wan would need to visit the apartment most days unless something untoward was going on.

 _Unless he was protecting her…_ part of him inwardly theorised.

 _No_ , the shadows hissed, _she would have told you if she was in danger. It's something else._

"I was going to–" Padmé began.

"Why, Padmé?"

"It's not that simp–"

"Something is going on here!" he thundered.

"It's not me, it's Sabé!" she shouted back, her cheeks flushed with anger.

Anakin halted, confused. Sabé…yes, that was the faintly familiar presence he'd sensed. His mind was still awhirl with rage, disorder, suspicion, but creeping its way forward was the guilt that usually came with it.

"It's Sabé he comes here for," Padmé explained coolly. "They're married, didn't you know?"

He faltered, struggling to comprehend what she was saying. "They're…what? No, that's…that's not possible, the Council…"

With a clatter of footsteps, Captain Typho burst into the room, stern-faced and brandishing his blaster. "Are you all right, M'lady? I heard shouting."

"I'm fine, Captain," Padmé told him. Her manner was calm but Anakin could tell that her ire had not dissipated.

Typho took in the scene with a dubious eye, and Anakin watched him stonily.

"Truly," Padmé added.

The captain nodded, holstering his blaster. Exchanging a long look with Padmé, he said, "I'll be just down the hall if you need me."

Anakin scoffed. As if a mere security guard could protect Padmé better than he could. And it was unthinkable that she would need protecting _from_ him, in any case.

She inclined her head, acknowledging the words, and Typho shot Anakin a glare before heading back the way he'd come.

They sat in silence for a while, each harbouring their own annoyances. Anakin didn't want to accuse her of lying, but Padmé's explanation just didn't make sense. Obi-Wan married? It was ludicrous. He didn't see how his stoic former master could even know what it truly was to love. He doubted that any feelings of that sort had ever touched Obi-Wan's heart. The man was a dedicated Jedi, to say the least.

"What did you mean?" he ventured at last. "Obi-Wan and Sabé…"

"It's true," Padmé told him squarely.

"How can it be? When you _know_ the Council would never allow–"

"Anakin, do you want to know or not?" she snapped crossly. At his nod, she added, "Well let me explain it, then." She sighed noisily, reaching for her data pad. "Sabé asked him for help, she was being set up in an arranged marriage that she didn't want, with a man she thinks might be dangerous. In order to get her out of it, Obi-Wan agreed to marry her instead. The Council granted them a dispensation because it's a marriage in name only. The story broke on the HoloNet a week ago, look." She pulled up the news story on her data pad and handed it to him.

Anakin read the first few lines, seeing the confirmation in sensationalist text. His mind whirled, trying to make sense of it. "So they're not…you know, _together_ then?"

"No. They're friends, they always have been, but that's all."

"Their situation isn't like ours," he stated.

"No. Sabé works for me, Obi-Wan has been assigned to be her protector, that's why he's here most days." She rubbed her eyes wearily before sending him a jaded glance. "You can see Obi-Wan tomorrow and ask him yourself."

Anakin stared at the polished floor, processing the strange turn of events. Padmé silently fumed beside him, and he felt a wave of remorse at the way he'd overreacted. That was the way it always happened. He concealed his fear of losing her, and so it grew wildly out of control, causing him to react emotionally and say things he later regretted bitterly. All the while he was acutely aware that such behaviour would only push her away, but he couldn't stop it. It was like he was programmed to react without rational thought, against his better judgement, and he didn't know what to do. All his life he'd fought against it, with little success.

 _You know why you're not successful_ , a tiny voice at the back of his mind whispered, _you like the darkness. It makes you feel strong, and you_ should _be strong. You're the Chosen One._

 _I don't want to be strong if it hurts Padmé_ , another part of him insisted.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Would you please go?" Padmé asked quietly. "I want to be alone tonight."

It stung him, but he nodded, even as another dark tendril had him gritting his teeth in irritation. He knew it was his own doing, which just made it worse.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I…have meetings all morning, but after that, yes."

He got to his feet, unsure what else to say. Leaning down, he planted a kiss on her hair, then reluctantly left her.

The cold night air bit into him when he stepped outside her apartment building, and he pondered what to do. He wanted guidance, he realised, and reassurance. For a brief moment he considered trying to find Obi-Wan, but his name only reminded Anakin of the incident that had just happened. That wasn't Obi-Wan's fault, he knew, but all the same… Obi-Wan was the last person that Anakin wanted to see. And he hadn't even acknowledged the bantha in the room; namely that his apathetic, unromantic former master was openly married _and_ had retained his position in the Jedi Order, while the supposed Chosen One was forced to live a life of secrecy. Anakin hadn't yet turned his thoughts towards that little detail, afraid that if he did his anger would truly erupt. He couldn't decide if Obi-Wan's lack of affection for his wife made it better or worse.

Anakin clenched his teeth against a snarl of irritation. He definitely needed to talk to someone, but with Obi-Wan and Padmé closed off, he wasn't sure who else to turn to. It was far beyond Ahsoka's input, mature as she was for her age. But of course, he'd missed the obvious answer.

Wrapping his cloak around him, he set off walking, his destination suddenly clear to him. Chancellor Palpatine was always willing to help him.

* * *

' _Dear Syrena,_

 _I realise this letter is almost three months too late, but I thought I would give you chance to settle into married life. Mother and Father told me what happened. I confess, I was shocked. Eloping is a drastic move, even for you, but I'm sure you had your reasons. Father is resigned to what you did, but Mother still seems a little bitter. I hope time will cure it. Seeing as you haven't spoken to either of them since you told them of your marriage, I thought you might want to know that they're both well, and just as they ever were. They haven't said so, but I believe that they'd like to hear from you soon. You shouldn't punish them forever, they genuinely thought they were setting you up with a good life._

 _Jensen and I are doing fine. I'm having to dress around the bump now! By the way, we're having a boy. We haven't thought of a name yet though. Promise me you'll visit when he's born. I want him to meet his Aunt Syrena._

 _I hope the life you've chosen is working out for you. I want my little sister to be happy._

 _Hope to hear from you soon,_

 _Idriel.'_

* * *

' _Dear Idriel,_

 _Thank you for your letter. It was nice to hear from you. I'm glad things are well with you and the bump, I'm sure Jensen is looking after you both. Of course I'll visit when your son is born, I would love to see him, even if you don't want me teaching him how to fire a blaster!_

 _Thank you for the update on our parents, but I'm not ready to forgive them yet. Maybe I will in time, but it's too raw for me right now. I hope you can understand why._

 _My life on Coruscant keeps me busy, but I enjoy that. Planning security for Padmé is not like planning security for the Queen, and I like the challenge. Of course, it would be much easier if she stopped upsetting powerful people, but that's Padmé. Don't tell our parents I said that._

 _I hope Mother and Father explained to you why I married Obi-Wan Kenobi. It wasn't really what you'd call an elopement, it's more of a business arrangement between him and me. It suits us both more than we'd anticipated, which is good. Obi-Wan is still able to maintain his loyalty to the Jedi. You may have heard of him. The HoloNet calls him The Negotiator._

 _My shift starts soon, so I must go. Take care of yourself. Love to Jensen and the bump._

 _Sabé.'_

* * *

Little changed during the months following Sabé's marriage to Obi-Wan. The war continued to rage across the galaxy. There were no attacks on Order members after the hit on Lord Demara's bodyguard, and there was no further sign of Daedrin's accomplice. Daedrin himself was a picture of senatorial efficiency and innocence. Sabé was assured that the investigation was still underway, but the speed of it and the continual lack of information was a source of constant frustration for her. Obi-Wan had reminded her that Daedrin was intelligent enough to know that there was a possibility that someone was on to him, which explained the halt in the murders. Neither one of them believed that they had stopped altogether.

Following their conversation on the veranda, Sabé was unsure what Padmé had decided to do regarding her situation. She knew that her friend had been shaken by Anakin's unexpected visit a few days after. Padmé hadn't spoken of it, but Gregar had told her what he'd observed, and Sabé could guess the rest. Being reminded of her husband's possessiveness had no doubt played a part in Padmé's decision not to act. Sabé couldn't blame her. It sounded very unlikely that Anakin would let her go easily, if that was what she wanted. It was concerning, to say the least. Sabé was sure that Obi-Wan could provide some insight, but that would mean telling him about his former Padawan's marriage, not to mention the past history between Padmé and Gregar.

Padmé had been keeping herself busy with work, often to the point of exhaustion. Sabé suspected that she was trying to stop herself thinking too much. She sympathised, but disapproved of her methods, and frequently tried to persuade her friend to eat proper meals and take breaks from her work.

It was very clear to Sabé, who had the benefit of an outsider's view, what was in her friend's heart. Padmé had never stopped loving Gregar, that had always been true, but it was only a small part of the issue. Sabé knew that Padmé could have been happy with Anakin, but his unpredictable behaviour, his angry, jealous streak, was steadily leeching away any affection she had for him. It compared rather unfavourably with Gregar's unselfish loyalty. Padmé could easily have found happiness with either one of them, and circumstances had made her choose Gregar. It was a choice she hadn't consciously made yet, but Sabé knew it was only a matter of time. What she was less sure about was the outcome of the whole messy situation. It wouldn't be pretty, that was for sure.

As for her own situation, it was boring by comparison. She and Obi-Wan continued on as normal, nothing ever changed. As time went on with no more Order members murdered, Obi-Wan began to take on other minor assignments from the Jedi Council, his period of suspension cut conveniently short. They were always Coruscant-based, and he was never away for long, but he no longer felt the need to be her constant shadow.

Sabé, Moteé and Teckla had no serious trouble from any of Padmé's enemies. They had formed a strong working bond, although Sabé did not feel particularly close to either of them. Moteé was blunt and spiky, but one of the most proficient warriors Sabé had ever seen. They worked together to train Teckla in more forms of combat, and the quiet woman was making good progress. Moteé still visited her sick friend, who, it turned out, was not likely to make a recovery any time soon. She was secretive about that, but Sabé let her be. She knew it couldn't be easy for her.

Gregar remained his stoic self, carrying out his duties with his usual diligence. He'd struck up a friendship with Obi-Wan, which pleased Sabé, and they never seemed to run out of topics to discuss.

It had been almost four months since Sabé had first heard of the marriage law, and she and Obi-Wan had finally been called to speak to the court on Naboo with Padmé. It would be the first of many sessions, she was sure. Overturning a law was a complicated business.

"This may all be over soon, Sabé," the senator said as they packed for the trip.

Sabé glanced up from her struggle with a gown that did not want to lie straight in the suitcase. "I guess so." She tilted her head, thinking.

Padmé shot her a look. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? The law revoked."

"Of course it is," she replied, confused that Padmé would even ask such a question.

"Then why do you look like I just ordered you on a suicide mission?"

Sabé opened her mouth to speak, but realised she didn't have a ready answer. "Do I?"

Padmé tossed a handful of hair accessories into her case. "Yes, you really do. What's wrong?"

She paused, debating the question. What _was_ wrong? It was definitely something.

"I… Nothing. It's just…strange. I'd just about got used to this version of normal." She shrugged, triumphing over the dress and smoothing it down. "As soon as the law gets revoked, _if_ it gets revoked, the Jedi Council will order an annulment and kick me out of their safe-house. It will be jarring to start all over again."

"Without Obi-Wan," Padmé added slyly.

Sabé nodded silently, slightly alarmed by how depressed that statement made her feel. That was what had been bothering her all morning, she realised. The thought of being without him gnawed at her belly like a particularly unpleasant case of butterflies.

Forgetting about what was proper behaviour for a handmaiden, she pushed Padmé's suitcase aside and sat down on the edge of the bed. _Why_ had she come to this realisation? They'd been getting along just fine, no awkwardness to mar their relationship. Sabé had even dared to think that they were happy. To bring unrequited feelings into it could be disastrous. And yet… Weren't they already there? Hadn't she been repressing her growing admiration for him since the wedding?

She felt dizzy as the hidden truths bombarded her, unleashed by Padmé's simple statement. Leaning forward, she stared resolutely at the floor, waiting for the vertigo to subside.

"Sabé, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm just having a moment. Just…ignore me, please."

Of course Padmé would not be told what to do. The hem of her gown appeared in Sabé's line of sight, and she felt her friend's hand rest on her shoulder.

"Hey, you're okay. Breathe, Sabé. What is it?" Lowering her voice, she hissed, "It's Obi-Wan, isn't it? You have feelings for him."

She scrambled to hide her revelation. "No! No, of course not. I'm just…used to having him around, that's all."

"Used to having him around?" Padmé said doubtfully.

Sabé nodded, staring at the floor. It was not terribly interesting, although she distractedly thought she could see the place where Padmé had once been startled by a surprise appearance from Anakin and had dropped a glass of juice.

"Really?" the senator went on, her tone confident. "It looks to me that you're only just beginning to discover how far your feelings go, and the thought that you may feel more than you should scares you."

Sabé's floor analysis had calmed her enough to look up and meet her friend's gaze. She was horrified that she was so easy to read. Padmé's assessment hit too close to the mark, and she spoke with a voice of experience.

Everything Sabé planned to say vanished from her mind. "What do I do?" she asked, lost and troubled.

Padmé gave her a sad, resolved little look. "You do what you can, even if that's just to carry on."

* * *

They were a small party travelling to Naboo, just Padmé, Sabé, Obi-Wan and Gregar. Obi-Wan received a transmission during the journey from Mace Windu warning them that Senator Daedrin had left Coruscant for an unknown destination. It was assumed that he had gone home to Axum, but they knew better than to believe assumptions.

They had a pleasantly unhurried walk through Theed, not bothering with formalities for once. The three Naboo residents kept Obi-Wan entertained with stories of their youth at the palace. Sabé almost felt the years slipping away as she talked with Padmé and Gregar, but there was still an edge between them, the more hurtful elements of the past.

For important cases that demanded the Queen's presence, the court held its session at the palace. Since Sabé and Padmé were working on bringing down an entire law, they weren't surprised to have attracted the attention of the Queen.

The group knew the way well, and cut along many paths off the beaten track. The fastest route led them through a series of narrow, labyrinthine back streets that were barely wide enough for a single speeder. It was easy to get lost in that part of Theed unless one was intimately familiar with every corner of it. Fortunately, Sabé, Padmé and Gregar all knew the way to the palace, having cut down the side streets many times when they lived there.

They were only ten minutes away when Obi-Wan suddenly whipped round, his lightsaber already ignited in his hand. A blaster bolt bounced off the blade as he stepped in front of the others. A small metal object flew towards them, getting caught in a planter above their heads.

"Move!" Obi-Wan yelled, pushing Sabé aside.

Gregar was already in motion, grabbing Padmé's arm and leaping away.

The grenade exploded, bringing half the street down and blocking their path. Obi-Wan and Sabé had dived down the street nearest to them, but there was no sign of Padmé and Gregar. Sabé checked herself for injuries, but found nothing but a few bruises. Obi-Wan had been able to extend his jump with the Force, taking them both far away from the falling debris.

"Are you all right?" he asked her, helping her to her feet.

She nodded. "Thanks to you."

Turning, she surveyed the damage. The way back was entirely blocked by smoking rubble. She frantically tapped the activation switch on her emergency com ear piece.

"Sabé to Typho, do you read me?" There was silence. "Gregar, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

A burst of static, then, "We're okay, Sabé. What about you?"

"We're fine," she replied, dizzy with relief.

"We're completely cut off," he said. "It'll take us ages to try and find you, and it might not be safe to try. We're going to take another route to the palace."

"Good thinking. We'll meet you there."

"See you shortly. Typho out."

"We need to hurry," Obi-Wan spoke up. "If the shooter was after you rather than Padmé, it would be wise to leave this area."

"Agreed. Did you see anyone?"

He shook his head, frowning. "No. I just sensed the intent at the last minute."

"Thank the gods you did," she said gratefully, briefly touching his arm. "Come on, follow me."

Keeping pace, they set off running.

* * *

Being without Force abilities, Padmé and Gregar were unable to move as far or fast as Obi-Wan, and so found themselves lying with their arms over their heads to protect themselves from the raining shrapnel. Gregar had tried to shield Padmé as much as possible, but she was still covered in stones and transparisteel, coughing brick dust. Her cheek was grazed where she had scraped it whilst diving away, but she was otherwise unharmed.

Padmé felt Gregar squeeze her upper arm, and realised that they had grabbed onto each other as they fell. She let go of his sleeve and slowly sat up.

"Are you okay?" he said at once, pushing himself up to his knees.

"I'm fine, just cuts and bruises."

His head tilted as he listened to his com, and she sat still while he conferred with Sabé.

"They're okay," he reported, "they're going to meet us at the palace."

"That's good." She got awkwardly to her feet, staring in horror at the pile of rubble.

"We can't worry about other people now," Gregar stated brusquely, guessing her thoughts. "The authorities will be here soon."

She turned to him to argue the point, and she saw that he had a cut above his eye that had left a thin trickle of blood down his cheek.

"We need to get going, M'lady," he insisted.

"You're hurt."

He shook off her concern. "It's nothing. Now let's go."

They jogged in silence for a few moments, weaving their way through the maze of alleys until they reached a small alcove where Padmé called a halt.

"We shouldn't linger here," Gregar said gruffly, folding his arms as Padmé calmly sat down on the stone bench that was tucked into the niche.

"We're safe enough for a short while. Come here, I want to look at that cut."

He seemed about to argue with her, but Padmé gazed at him adamantly. Still, he frowned.

"I told you, it's nothing," he said. "We don't have time for this."

"I'm making time," she said firmly. "Now sit down, Captain, that's an order."

He clenched his teeth against a retort, appearing to wait as long as he dared before sitting next to her.

Padmé ignored that. "Do you have a medikit?" she asked.

Wordlessly, he unclipped a pouch from his belt and handed it to her. Padmé fished out an antiseptic wipe and ripped the packet open.

"Hold still," she muttered, her tone gentler but still inviting no arguments.

Gregar tensed a little as she lightly held his face, cleaning the wound. She chose not to think about how close they were, or how her fingertips tingled where they touched his skin. She couldn't afford to be distracted.

"The cut's deep," she told him, "but it looks clean."

"Good."

He winced as she carefully removed a bit of grit.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be," he placated, his voice catching. "I…would prefer it was properly cleaned."

She finished removing the dried blood and set about holding the cut closed with strips of tape.

"There," she said as she patted the last one into place. "Done."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, all traces of his earlier annoyance gone.

She met his gaze for a brief moment before glancing quickly away. He hesitated, then reached out and placed a gloved hand under her chin, his touch barely making an impact. Padmé felt her heartbeat speed up, and found her mouth was suddenly dry and empty of words. Gently, he turned her face towards him and ran a finger alongside the graze on her cheek.

"This is going to bruise," he declared quietly.

"I've been clawed by a nexu," she told him, "I can handle a bruise."

He smiled, and she realised she hadn't seen it in a while. It was good to have him relaxed enough to smile around her. Pulling another antiseptic wipe from the medikit, he cleaned the tiny cuts along her cheekbone.

Padmé found herself staring down at her lap, aware that there was nowhere else to look but at him.

"Thank you for pulling me out of the way," she said.

"It's my job," he replied impassively.

She knew he was protecting himself by acting as if this moment meant nothing, but his tone hurt. More than she would have expected.

"I know," she shot back evenly, "but I'm still grateful."

She felt the cool sting of the antiseptic vanish, and he lowered his hand. Aware that it was unwise, Padmé slowly glanced up. He was looking at her, his gaze intense but his expression carefully guarded. She hardly dared to breathe. They were closer than either of them had allowed for some time. They were usually so careful. Gregar's glance briefly dropped to her lips, and she distractedly wondered what he was thinking.

Padmé wasn't sure what they would have let happen next, but Gregar jumped and moved away, listening to something on his com.

"We got held up," he said to the person on the other end, whom she assumed was Sabé. "We'll be right there. Typho out."

He did not look at her, moving away to survey the path ahead. Padmé could feel their momentary closeness turning back into aloof professionalism. It left her feeling cold. She said nothing, busying herself with clearing away the medikit. Being around Anakin never made her feel so jumpy, so aware of the space between them. Or so alive. His attentions were sweet, when he was in a good mood, and they warmed her heart, but it was nothing compared to how the most basic of contact with Gregar made her feel. It was not exactly a surprising revelation, but it seemed to have a finality about it, as if she had been waiting to see how she felt before deciding how to act.

She struggled against the guilt, knowing how her thoughts would hurt Anakin, and wishing she could sort things out without harming him. She knew she needed to talk to Sabé. An impassive viewpoint would be helpful, and she needed to find clarity. But in the meantime she needed to focus on what she was going to say to the court.

"Are you ready, M'lady?" Gregar asked, managing to meet her gaze, his expression the very definition of neutral.

"Yes, Captain," she replied softly. "Lead on."

They made it to the palace, where Sabé and Obi-Wan were waiting. They too were covered in masonry dust, but they seemed unharmed. Sabé fussed over their injuries before she was interrupted by one of Queen Neeyutnee's handmaidens, who offered them a place to tidy up. Sabé fixed the damage to Padmé's elaborate hairdo as best she could, and they all brushed down their clothes. A palace security officer took their report about the attack, which they relayed faithfully, but for making any mention of who they suspected to be behind it.

Finally, they made their way to the throne room, where the Queen was presiding over the day's cases. Padmé led the others into the middle of the room, where they stood facing the Queen. The legal council occupied the chairs that formed a circle around them, save for its two chief councillors, who sat either side of the throne.

Padmé returned the respectful nod that Queen Neeyutnee sent her, finding it strange to be back in a legal council session and not be overseeing it.

"Case 1138," spoke up the protocol droid at the sidelines, "Senator Padmé Amidala versus the law of arranged marriage sanctioned by King Cossaka's court."

"Senator Amidala," one of the chief councillors, a man named Sirus, began, "you seek to overturn this law, correct?"

"Yes, Councillor Sirus," Padmé replied obediently.

"On what grounds?"

"On grounds of it being totally unnecessary," she stated baldly "Not only is it 300 years out of date, but the circumstances that determined the decision to form the law in the first place are no longer in play. Naboo is a very different planet since the troubles of King Cossaka's reign, and we no longer suffer from the disease that killed so many children. On top of that, I would add that it puts women in an unacceptably vulnerable position and assumes that all women wish to marry men. We live in different, more liberal times now."

Several of the councillors nodded in agreement to the last statements.

"Our laws should be for the benefit and protection of all Naboo's citizens," Padmé continued, feeling more comfortable as she got into her stride, "not just those in a position of power."

"Senator Amidala," the Queen spoke up, "your arguments are valid and your logic is impeccable, as always, but for procedure's sake we must hear from someone to speak on the law's behalf."

"Of course," Padmé said nodding, inwardly groaning at the thought of listening to a council member fumbling for proper reasons to keep the law in place.

For the next twenty minutes she traded points with Councillor Dax Annis, a pompous, middle-aged man who apparently saw no harm in the law. She was fairly confident that her arguments outweighed his misguided attempts to justify it, and found the points he raised offensive, short-sighted, and vastly wide of the mark.

The court heard from Sabé, who conveyed her opinion politely but firmly as she explained the events leading up to her marriage. Then they heard from Obi-Wan, who added weight to their argument when he said that he valued Sabé's freedom above the relevant points of the Jedi Code. Padmé wasn't sure how much of his statement was entirely true, but it certainly made an impact.

"Your course of action screams desperation, Lady Sabé," one of the councillors spoke up, her tone superior. "What were you really running from?"

"As I've already said," Sabé replied, smoothly polite as she struggled to keep her temper. "I knew a drastic decision had to be made, not only to secure my freedom of choice, but to bring the obvious negative points of this law to light."

Padmé glanced at her, shooting her a warning look. It would do no good to antagonise the council. Sabé gave the tiniest of nods, her expression becoming noticeable calmer as she gained control.

"But you must admit–"

"Councillor Tiess," Queen Neeyutnee's quiet voice cut in, "Lady Sabé was part of my security team for over a year. I know her to be an honest young woman. May we move on? This badgering is off point."

The councillor struggled with her instinct to press the matter further, but eventually nodded, bowing to the Queen before retaking her seat.

"Does anyone have anything else to add?" Chief Councillor Sirus asked.

Silence floated back to him.

"All right. As you are no doubt aware, Senator Amidala, dissolving a law is a serious matter, one which will take a little more time to reach verdict than a regular case. We will take everything into consideration and come to a decision when procedure allows. The Queen will also make a decision. If the verdicts of Queen and council do not align, we may call you to speak at a reassessment. Do you understand all of this?"

"Yes, Councillor," Padmé said, managing to keep the patronising tone from her voice, despite dearly wishing to include it.

"Very good. You may go."

The party bowed to Queen Neeyutnee before doing just that.

They were scheduled to stay one night in Theed before heading back to Coruscant, to give Padmé, Sabé and Gregar time to visit their families. Padmé hadn't seen her parents in a long while, and Sabé was willing to see Idriel and Jensen, if not her own parents. Gregar wished to look in on his uncle Panaka, his only living relative. It would be a busy day of visiting before they journeyed home.

They were staying at Padmé's residence in Theed, a basic yet comfortable house in the centre of the city. Queen Neeyutnee sent one of her handmaidens with them to prepare dinner for them all, declaring that they must all rest after the attack in the streets. Sabé was pleasantly surprised to have an evening off and happily surrendered the kitchen to the Queen's aide.

Padmé was quiet during dinner and their retreat to the lounge afterward. Sabé sat beside her, apparently listening to Obi-Wan and Gregar's conversation about Chancellor Palpatine's policies. Padmé wasn't paying attention to it, but she couldn't help looking in their direction, studying Gregar's face as he talked. She was vaguely aware of Sabé switching her gaze between her and the two men.

Then her friend said softly, "What is it?"

Padmé turned to her, feeling a little guilty for causing the obvious concern in Sabé's brown eyes. She knew that Sabé had not forgotten what they had talked about on the veranda all those weeks ago, but her handmaiden had grown used to pretending the conversation hadn't happened. And now Padmé found the truth, although firmly settled in her mind, halted on her tongue. And then, suddenly, it was said, quietly and without fanfare.

"I love him."

Sabé nodded, her expression grave. "I know."

"What do I do?"

The handmaiden met her gaze, not hesitating with her reply. "You carry on, until you know how to move forward."

"And you, Sabé?" Padmé asked gently.

Sabé glanced over at Obi-Wan, who was nodding in agreement with whatever Gregar was saying. "Yes," she answered simply, barely above a whisper.

* * *

Obi-Wan was not surprised when Sabé requested a training spar almost as soon as they'd returned to their apartment after reporting to the Jedi Council. She was angry about the previous day's attack in Theed, which had hurt civilians as well as Padmé and Gregar, and needed to work out her aggression. Although the technique was so far from his own, calmer Jedi methods, he understood her need to fight her anger head on. He knew her well enough to know that her anger gave her focus. He would have considered it a Sith practice in anyone with Force abilities, but Sabé never let her fury control her, preferring to use it as fuel for her adrenaline. And she never considered it an ally, seeming grateful when she could be calm again. Still, taking note of how annoyed she was, he deemed it safer to his own well-being to fight without weapons for the first few rounds.

Both barefoot and free of anything that might be hurtful in close-quarter combat, they faced each other in the space they'd made in the lounge. Sabé had pulled her hair back severely, which he distantly observed made the sharp angles of her face stand out more, giving her a striking yet stern look.

For the first few minutes he was purely on the defensive, letting her hit out at him, fending off her blows. After that he fought properly, and they battled each other in silence. Sabé, as always, presented a challenge in her nimble movements and quick reactions, but his Jedi training still gave him the advantage. She hated losing, but he knew that if he let her win she would hate that more.

She attempted a fast-paced series of moves that almost had him in difficulty, but he turned the tables at the last minute, flipping her onto her back.

"That was good," he said. "You're getting sharper with that."

She accepted his hand up, wincing at her new bruises. "Good to know. Let's go again."

"Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes at him, blowing loose strands of hair out of her face. "Yes. Come on, I can handle it."

The fight was shorter that time, as Sabé was wearing herself out with her aggressive moves. It ended the same way as the previous one. She let out a grunt as she hit the floor. He offered her his hand again and she reached up to him. Before he knew it, she had kicked out at his legs, tugging his arm to bring him down beside her.

"That's cheating," he declared as they both stared up the ceiling.

"Yep," she admitted cheerfully.

Confident in her reflexes, he hit out at her. She caught his wrist before he caused any damage.

"Nice try!" she said with a grin.

He pulled his arm back, but she hadn't quite let go, and he suddenly found her sprawled across him. They both caught their breath. He detected a faint pink flush on her cheeks. Inevitably, he was reminded of the last time they had been in a similar position. All at once he was torn between two instincts: to push her away and to pull her closer. A little startled and concerned about the latter, he gently moved her backwards. She shifted further back on her own, staring at the floor.

"Sorry," they both said at once. Then they met each other's gaze and laughed.

Obi-Wan got to his feet and held out his hand once more. This time she let him pull her up.

"Good match," Sabé stated after a pause. "I'm going to head to the fresher."

He nodded in reply to both points and watched her flee the room. Briefly closing his eyes, he let out a sigh. He sat cross-legged on the sofa and drifted into meditation, determined to clear his mind, and try and work out exactly what his instincts thought they were doing.

* * *

 **A/N:** Awkward! No matter, though, meditation solves all your woes. Apparently.


	13. Origins

**A/N:** Sorry it's been a while again, guys. Life got lifey.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen – Origins.**

Anakin had waited an entire day before visiting Senator Amidala. As Obi-Wan overheard Padmé greeting him in a friendly but quiet manner, he realised he was surprised. Part of him always expected Anakin to call on her as soon as he landed. He heard Padmé request tea from Sabé, and the soft rumble of Anakin's refusal.

Sabé was working until late, and the Jedi Council had nothing else for him to do, so Obi-Wan was indulging in a personal research project. He'd covered half of the desk Padmé was kindly letting him use with scraps of flimsi, and his own handwritten notepad was untidy to say the least. He couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of relaxed and guilty. Relaxed because he was enjoying his task, guilty because his fellow Jedi were helping the war effort. Still, he'd asked the Council if they had any local business he could take care of, they'd said no. His guilt was a negative drain he didn't need, so he focused and let it go.

A short while later, he heard Anakin's distinctive gait in the hallway, and wasn't surprised to see his former Padawan's lanky frame in the doorway.

"Hello, Master," Anakin greeted him. He looked tired and troubled.

"You don't have to call me that anymore," Obi-Wan reminded him with a smile.

"Old habits die hard," Anakin said, shrugging and entering the room. He plopped down into a chair, sending a few flimsi pages skittering across the desk.

Obi-Wan righted them without comment, but his expression made Anakin snigger.

"Not that boring history stuff again."

"It's not boring," Obi-Wan defended, knowing full well his words were falling on deaf ears. "It's interesting."

"Sure," Anakin said dryly.

"How was your mission?"

"Successful. Nothing much to report." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment, and when he spoke again he was guarded. "I, uh, heard you got married."

Obi-Wan nodded, clearly hearing the very obvious nonchalance in Anakin's voice. "It was the best path," he spoke up. "If not the smoothest one. There's been quite a lot of gossip."

"I'm surprised the Council went for it."

"It was an unconventional plan," Obi-Wan agreed. "If there had been any sort of scandal between Sabé and myself, it might have been different. As it is, nothing much has changed."

 _Nothing much…_ Obi-Wan added inwardly.

Anakin's face twitched, as if he'd been on the verge of saying something, and he glanced away in silence.

Obi-Wan watched him wearily, hoping they weren't about to have yet another argument on the rules of the Jedi Code. There had been far too many of those while Anakin had been growing up. He'd been silent on the subject for years, yet Obi-Wan suspected his viewpoint had only grown stronger, especially since meeting Padmé again. That was a conversation he really didn't want to have. He knew there would be a high likelihood of it throwing up secrets he was better off not knowing.

The silence was deafening, and Obi-Wan was struck with the strange impression that Anakin had a lot more to say – perhaps was doing so in some internal rant – that he didn't dare voice. The thought worried him immensely in all that it implied.

"Are you working on catching Sabé's assailant?" Anakin said at last.

"The Council is."

"That's good."

Another pause.

"I'd better get back to Padmé," he added, standing. "We have a lot to catch up on."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course. Any excuse to get away from boring history stuff."

Anakin quirked a small smile at that. "Yup. See you later."

Listening to the sound of Anakin's departing footsteps, Obi-Wan rested his chin on his clasped hands and frowned.

 _Why do I get the feeling that we just side-stepped a much bigger conversation?_

The thought left him unsettled, and he hoped that avoidance wouldn't escalate the problem. If there even _was_ a problem.

* * *

"You can laugh if this is wide of the mark," Obi-Wan began one evening as they ate dinner in the apartment, "but…is there something between Padmé and Gregar?"

Sabé lowered her fork, eyebrows raised at the question she wasn't anticipating. "Oh," she said with a little laugh.

"Am I wrong?"

"No. No, you're not wrong." At the back of her mind, she was trying not to panic. If he had picked up on Padmé and Gregar's feelings, who was to say he would not pick up on hers? "It's, uh, kind of complicated. And a long story."

He set his cutlery aside on his empty plate, saying encouragingly, "We have time. I'd like to hear it, if you don't mind. I wouldn't want to say anything tactless to either of them."

Sabé smiled. "I can't imagine you saying anything tactless to anybody."

"You've clearly never heard me speak to Asajj Ventress."

She gave a quiet huff of laughter and reached for her glass. "I've not had the pleasure of meeting her, which is absolutely fine by me." She sipped the light, fruity wine and took in Obi-Wan's smile, keeping her expression carefully guarded even as she let herself look. "Let's see... I guess I should go back to when Padmé was elected Queen." Placing her glass on the table, she leaned back in her chair, pondering how to begin. "Before she took office, we had a period of three weeks between her election and her coronation in which to prepare ourselves for her reign," she explained. "We handmaidens had been on standby during the election, and as soon as it was over we started training together. We knew each other by sight from our time in the Order, but we'd not had the opportunity to work closely together. Since she wasn't officially monarch yet, Padmé decided to train with us."

"However did she get away with that?" Obi-Wan asked. "I can't see Captain Panaka being too happy about it."

"Oh, he wasn't," Sabé said, amused by the memory. "He thought it would be a security risk, revealing her identity, but she was adamant that nobody would notice. They spent the best part of a morning arguing about it, I remember. Padmé wore him down eventually. Partly because there was some logic to her arguments and partly because...well, she's Padmé."

Obi-Wan chuckled, nodding his agreement. He'd seen the senator's stubbornness first-hand.

"So, she started training with us, working on self-defence. We made sure she was proficient with a blaster, since she would never be a warrior, and Panaka grudgingly agreed to let her join us when we met the Palace Guard."

"And Gregar was an officer," Obi-Wan surmised.

Sabé nodded. "Yes, he was a junior officer, only eighteen, and very green. We all were back then. When we first came together, the two halves of the royal security team, luck placed Gregar and me opposite each other, so I noticed right away that he couldn't take his eyes off Padmé." She grinned impishly, recalling his stares. "It was actually very sweet. If I'd been less nice I could have teased them both mercilessly. Fortunately for them, I'm a better friend than that. Pity."

"I know you're not as cruel as you make out, so I'm ignoring that," he told her with an air of superiority.

She pulled a face at him and continued. "Gregar and Padmé made friends pretty much as soon as they started talking. Panaka had asked me to stick close to her just in case, so I kind of got dragged into it almost by accident, but soon enough the three of us were inseparable."

"Did Gregar know that Padmé was also Queen Amidala?"

"Uh, no. That was the first snag in their relationship, actually." Sabé sat up straighter in her seat, leaning her folded arms on the table. "She was worried that he'd treat her differently if he knew, and she just wanted to be a person to him, not a queen. But…of course, the secret was out at the coronation. He recognised her, even behind the face paint and the headdresses."

Obi-Wan studied her as she talked, his expression thoughtful. "What happened?"

"He was stunned, I think. And dismayed. He confided in me later that he'd wanted more than friendship with Padmé, but he didn't think there was even the possibility of it with her the ruler of a planet and him just a low-ranking soldier."

"What did you tell him?"

Sabé smiled to herself as she recalled. "I told him to be patient. I said nothing was certain, and Padmé wouldn't be a queen forever. Finally he agreed to continue being her friend, if nothing else, and treat her as he always had when it was appropriate to do so. I was glad, because Padmé needed friends, and I didn't want to be her only one. Being Queen was…stressful, to say the least. When she was with Gregar and me she could be herself."

By silent agreement, they rose to their feet and took their plates to the kitchen, moving around each other with fluid ease as they tidied things away.

Sabé went on with her story as they worked. "As an outsider, it was easy for me to see how they were both feeling. Gregar was head over heels, but he kept it mostly to himself, always aware of the differences in their rank. He was happy to have her friendship. Padmé seemed oblivious. I'm still not completely sure if she guessed or not. Anyway, for her it took longer for something to develop. She had a lot on her mind establishing her strength as Queen."

"Did the invasion of the Trade Federation interfere with all of this?" Obi-Wan asked, leaning back against the kitchen units.

"I was just getting to that, actually. A lot of it you already know," she said, mirroring his stance. "Obviously Padmé and I escaped with you, but Gregar stayed behind with the majority of the Palace Guard. He was among those who formed the underground resistance movement, if you remember that."

"Yes," he said with a nod. "They joined us on the outskirts of the swamp."

"That's it. We didn't have time or opportunity to greet each other, aside from grinning like idiots across the camp! We got separated again pretty soon after Padmé went through her battle strategy. I think I told you my side of the battle when it was over, didn't I?"

"You did," Obi-Wan confirmed. "I was glad. I needed to keep my mind away from dark thoughts after what happened with Qui-Gon and the Sith. Talking with you helped more than you know."

Sabé blushed a little, trying not to look too pleased at the thought of him needing her. It seemed insensitive considering what he had gone through at the time.

"I was glad to help," she stated simply, covering her emotional response. "Uh…when I met back up with Padmé, we realised that neither of us had seen Gregar since before the battle. We eventually found him in the medical bay. It was filled beyond capacity, it was…awful."

"I can imagine," he said sympathetically.

"Gregar was unconscious when we got there. He'd lost his eye, and there was blood everywhere, it was… Well, I'm sure you can guess. Padmé couldn't stay with him, she had too much to do, but I could. Those were…strange days. I spent half my time by his bedside and half with you, making sure you and Anakin were okay."

"I remember. I didn't realise how seriously hurt your friend was at the time, though. I don't think I met him until just before the Clone Wars started."

"Padmé didn't make a fuss," Sabé said, shrugging. "She's too professional to betray her feelings like that. She was worried, though. I think she felt bad for being so preoccupied when Anakin tried to see her."

At the mention of his former Padawan, Obi-Wan's brow creased in a slight frown. He'd never approved of Anakin's attachment to Padmé. Sabé hadn't yet decided how she was going to finish the story. Mentioning Anakin seemed unavoidable.

"Gregar didn't wake up until about five days after the celebration parade, after you and the other Jedi had left," she went on. "His healing progress was slow, he was off duty for a long time. Padmé and I visited him when we could, but he spent more time alone than we liked. While he'd been unconscious, we discovered that his parents had been killed during the invasion, so we had to break the news to him when he woke up." She shuddered, recalling the raw anguish on her friend's injured face.

"That can't have been easy for him," Obi-Wan sympathised. "Or helped his road to recovery."

"No," she said, shaking her head, grimacing as she remembered, "it was a tough time for him, but he got through it. He used to paint in his spare time, so he spent a lot of his recuperation learning a slightly different way of seeing. But even with that distraction, he was so glad when he could be discharged from the medical bay. Eventually, after some extra training, he was put back on active duty, after he'd proved that losing an eye hadn't affected his ability to serve."

As Sabé talked, they retreated to the comfortable chairs in the lounge area of their open-plan living space, each settling in their chosen favourite seats. Sabé still had half a glass of wine left, and she swirled it thoughtfully around the glass as she spoke.

"Over time, I watched Padmé and Gregar's relationship slowly change. Padmé's reign kept us all busy, but after the Trade Federation invasion everything else seemed quiet by comparison."

"I can see why it would," Obi-Wan commented.

"Yes, we were lucky not to have to face anything like that again," Sabé said, tucking her legs up underneath her as she searched for a comfortable position. "As time passed, Gregar remained much the same as ever: loyal, constant, thoughtful...quietly disappointed when Padmé dated someone else. Although he didn't have to worry, it was a short-lived fling that she ended. Even though she didn't appear to return his feelings, his never changed. But eventually she did start to notice what he felt for her, probably around the same time that she realised she felt something too. That was about...oh...five years after they met! Talk about a slow burn."

Obi-Wan smiled, propping one foot up on the table in front of him. "I suppose she wanted to be sure."

"Yes," Sabé said with a nod. "And even then she didn't act on it. Somehow, without actually talking about it, they both agreed that nothing would happen between them while Padmé was Queen." Seeing his sceptical expression, she added, "That's how it seemed from my point of view, anyway. Maybe they had a few conversations I wasn't aware of. Which is fine. It would be weird if I was always there."

"I didn't realise that stalking was one of your many talents," he said, poker-faced.

"You think you're funny," Sabé muttered.

He stared at her blankly. "Am I not?"

She slanted an eyebrow at him until his facade cracked and he laughed.

"I'm sorry," he said, his smile rendering it completely insincere. "Carry on."

"Thank you," Sabé intoned with placid sarcasm. "As it happens, I don't have much to tell from that point until the end of Padmé's reign. She and Gregar grew closer, but always within the boundaries of professionalism. Still, I got the sense that they were really biding time, they'd...sort of made an agreement that they were waiting out her terms as monarch. I don't know if it was ever anything as literal as that, but that's how it was."

"And when her term was over?"

Sabé smiled widely as she recalled that day. "Hmm. Well. That was a busy time. There were all sorts of preparations to make for Queen Jamillia's arrival at the palace, we were all running around like maniacs for days, but those two…they were just…serene. It was actually quite annoying."

Obi-Wan let out a chuckle, setting his empty glass on the table.

"It had been decided that Padmé would still need protection after she stepped down from the throne, being a public figure for so long. Panaka elected to transfer two bodyguards to her service, so naturally Gregar and I volunteered. We were all to go away to stay in the Lake Country. Padmé said she wanted a complete change."

"Understandable."

"Yes. Her last day in office passed, and then it was the handover ceremony and Jamillia's coronation. After all that, there was a huge party in the evening that we were all required to go to." She wrinkled her nose. "It was awful, so much small talk I thought my head was going to explode. Padmé and I wore very similar dresses, so as the wine flowed, we sort of became merged in people's minds. So when she slipped away before the end, nobody really noticed."

"Very devious," Obi-Wan observed, in a tone that suggested he'd expected nothing less.

Sabé inclined her head as she received the praise. "Thank you, _I_ thought so. Anyway, most people were tipsy, to say the least, and there were a lot of late risers the following morning. Gregar spent the night in Padmé's room and no one was any the wiser. Not that they were doing anything wrong, but they didn't want to invite comment."

Obi-Wan nodded, seeming to understand, but didn't offer a remark.

"As things turned out," Sabé went on, becoming sombre, "that one night was all they had. The very next day, Queen Jamillia called Padmé into a meeting and asked her to serve as senator. You know what Padmé's like. It wasn't in her to refuse, regardless of what it meant for her own happiness. It would be improper for a senator as high ranking as she is to be romantically involved with a soldier. Even if she was willing to break the rules, Gregar was not. He's an honourable man, he didn't want there to be any hint of impropriety surrounding Padmé. I know it seems…outdated, but that's how things are on Naboo. Rank is considered important"

"It's not as outdated as you think," Obi-Wan told her. "It's the same on many worlds, I've seen it first-hand."

Sabé pursed her lips pensively, her thoughts skipping ahead to her quarrel with Padmé. She wasn't looking forward to explaining that part.

"I don't know what happened when Gregar found out, I wasn't there, but I doubt it was a pleasant conversation. Although in the end, he agreed to be her Chief of Security."

"That can't have been easy for him."

"No, it hasn't been," Sabé verified. "But he says he wants to be able to keep her safe. It's worth any personal pain. I just…feel so bad for him. For them both."

"Surely Padmé is well established in her position now," Obi-Wan put in. "Nobody would think badly of her for being with someone who makes her happy, regardless of social rank."

Sabé glanced down at the wine glass in her hand as she wondered what to say next. "Ah. It's, uh, it's not that simple, I'm afraid. I'll get to that."

"Okay."

"When I heard what had happened, I was fuming. I knew how much Padmé had been looking forward to getting away from public life and thinking of herself for once. And, of course, I knew how long Gregar had waited for her. I confronted Padmé about it. We had a huge argument. It wasn't my best reaction ever, I'm not proud of it. But…she eventually offered me a position as handmaiden. I declined. That was the last time I spoke to her for…oh, I'm not sure how long. A long time, anyway." She sighed, draining the last of her wine and setting the glass aside. "Over time we rebuilt our friendship, but it's only been back where it was in recent months."

"So they are still separated by their rank? Even now, after all this time?"

"They…are," Sabé confirmed, hesitating over the words. "I know there are still feelings there on both sides, but…there's another complication now."

Something in her tone caused a wary shadow to pass over Obi-Wan's face. "Anakin," he stated perceptively.

Still unsure how much she should really say, Sabé nodded. "Yes."

"I've always known he had an attachment to Padmé. I suppose I was hoping he'd grow out of it."

"I…I can't really say…" she began.

"Don't," Obi-Wan cut in, holding up a hand. "I have a feeling it's safer I not know."

Sabé opened her mouth to speak, then reconsidered what she was going to say. "Perhaps," she muttered at length.

"Does..." he began, his demeanour betraying his unease at the topic, "...does Padmé...return any feelings Anakin may have for her?"

"She loves him, I'm sure, but I don't think it's..." _In the way he wants_ , she was going to say. But that would reveal too much. "...you know," she went on awkwardly, "...in _that_ way. He's someone she cares about deeply."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan murmured, raising a hand to his chin.

"But...you know what Anakin can be like. If Padmé and Gregar did decide to pursue their feelings...I can't see him reacting well to that."

"No," he agreed at once, a hint of concern seeping into his voice. "I've never been blind to his faults, but I've tried to help him overcome them. Or rather, to teach him what he needs to know in order to work through them on his own." He pressed a hand to his closed eyes, looking weary and altogether un-Jedi-like. "Sometimes I wonder how successful I've been. Whether I could have tried harder, been a better teacher."

Surprised at his sudden candidness, Sabé offered gently, "Surely the Council had their reasons for knighting him. They wouldn't have done that unless they thought he was ready."

"That's true," he conceded, "but we never stop learning, even after we become Knights." Shaking himself out of his momentary wistfulness, he added, "But anyway...I agree with you, he would not react well to news of Padmé and Gregar. And that worries me, frankly."

Finding she could not tell any more of her story without revealing the secret of Padmé and Anakin's marriage, Sabé slipped into a contemplative silence. She was fairly confident that Obi-Wan had the gist of it anyway, however much he claimed not to know.

"So what will happen now?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I don't know. I wish I had an easy answer. I don't like seeing either of them in pain."

"These things have a way of sorting themselves out."

"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze, "but it's the fallout from that that worries me."

He made a quiet sound of agreement, frowning at the thought.

Sabé sighed and sat up straighter. "But you asked for the story, that's it. So far, at least."

"Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome," she said with a nod. Shifting forward to stand up, she went on, "I think I'll try and meditate a little before bed. All this reminiscing is cluttering my mind."

He smiled, but she didn't think his heart was in it. "Fair enough. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

* * *

"I'm not sure I enjoy being summoned without knowing the reason," Obi-Wan said, as the turbolift took them up towards the Jedi Council chamber the following morning.

"No," Sabé agreed, her folded arms accompanying her slight frown. "It reminds me too much of school."

"Oh? I'm afraid I missed out on that particular experience."

"Being called in to see the head teacher, not knowing if you'd done something wrong or if they had some terrible news to give you." She shook her head vehemently. "I thought growing up meant leaving that feeling behind! Apparently not."

They fell silent as the lift reached its destination. When the doors slid aside, they exited together, their calm gait keeping their mutual uncertainty hidden. Sabé dropped her arms to her sides and obediently stood in the centre of the room with Obi-Wan.

"Sorry to summon you both so early in the day," Ki-Adi-Mundi greeted them.

"That's all right, Master," Obi-Wan assured him. "What's the problem?"

"An interesting situation has arisen, Obi-Wan," Yoda said, his hands clasped under his chin. "Your attention it needs."

Obi-Wan's voice was quiet in its reply. " _My_ attention?"

"Yes. Require you to go off-planet, it will."

"Masters, with respect, I already have an assignment. Is it wise for me to be leaving Coruscant without the attacks on the Order of Sanctuary dealt with?"

"Ideally, no," Mace Windu put in with customary bluntness, "but this is an unusual case that we think you should be involved in, if Lady Sabé has no objections."

Sabé tried not to look too startled that the Jedi Council was taking her opinion into consideration. "I have no doubts that you have my best interests covered, Master Windu," she said diplomatically. "Obi-Wan's first duty should be to the Jedi, not to me."

It seemed that this was what they were expecting her to say, but Obi-Wan shot her a swift, unreadable look. She didn't have time to puzzle over it in any depth, however, as the discussion moved rapidly on.

"You remember your mission to Mandalore when you were a Padawan," Mace Windu said, no hint of a question in his business-like tone.

"Of course," Obi-Wan answered stoically, his demeanour betraying nothing of what Sabé felt sure must be going through his mind.

"We've been alerted to some holo footage that places Duchess Satine Kryze under suspicion of secret allegiance with the Separatists."

"May I ask what this footage shows?"

"A warrior in Mandalorian armour attacking a Republic ship," Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up.

"Suggested it has been," added Yoda, "that the duchess is raising an army to aid the Separatists."

"Impossible," Obi-Wan said quickly. "That's extremely unlikely," he amended. "The duchess is a staunch pacifist. She suffers ongoing criticism from Mandalorians with more traditional values because of her peaceful views. I very much doubt that she would choose to do anything that would threaten Mandalore's neutrality."

"Nevertheless, we are obligated to investigate the duchess," Mace Windu said. "If she is not behind the attack, we must discover who is. Mandalore may be a neutral system, but the attack was on a Republic vessel, and we can't ignore that."

"A delicate situation this is," Yoda pointed out. "Your shared history with the duchess will be an advantage. Feel threatened she must not, unless proved it is that she is working with the Separatists."

"Has the duchess specifically requested my presence?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No," said Ki-Adi-Mundi. "She objects to this investigation."

Sabé saw a brief flicker across Obi-Wan's face, as if he was not remotely surprised by the news.

"And what of Lady Sabé's safety while I'm gone?" he said.

"I can stay with Padmé," she put in before the Council could speak. "I'm sure I'll be fine there."

"Accompany you, Lady Sabé will," Yoda told them calmly. "That way, abandon your assignment, you will not."

Sabé felt a spark of annoyance that they had already decided she was going, but she supposed that that was how Obi-Wan felt all the time, always being at the beck and call of the elders. She shot a glance his way, interested to see what he thought of the decision.

He simply nodded, his expression still mostly unreadable.

She tried to keep the frown from her face, speaking up. "Masters, I'm not sure that's a good idea. Our marriage isn't widely known, especially offworld. What reason would we give for my presence there? I work for a member of the Senate, couldn't that raise issues that would complicate Obi-Wan's mission?"

"Obi-Wan will simply explain the truth: that you are under his protection," Mace Windu said.

Realising that there was no way she was going to avoid an unanticipated trip to Mandalore, Sabé reluctantly nodded. She knew that as a neutral party she couldn't let herself get too involved in Obi-Wan's mission, and she fully expected to be bored. However, it wouldn't be any different from the countless number of meetings and events she'd accompanied the Queen to. The fact that they would be meeting Duchess Satine added a certain tenseness to the proceedings, and Sabé wasn't sure that she wanted to be involved, especially now that she was so aware of her growing feelings for Obi-Wan.

"You leave tomorrow," Yoda finished, all but dismissing them. "Here is a copy of the security footage. Proof, the duchess may want."

Obi-Wan stepped forward to take the small holo projector from him, slipping it into his pocket. They exited the chamber, each keeping their silence until they were safely in the main turbolift.

"This is going to be beyond awkward," Sabé exclaimed. "How are we going to explain who I am?"

She wasn't talking about her ties to the Senate this time, and he seemed to pick up on that.

"You said yourself our marriage isn't known offworld. We won't have to explain."

"You...want to... _not_ tell your ex that you're now married to me?" Sabé clarified, needing to make sure that she was understanding him right.

He fixed her with a frown. "What good would it do to tell her? What we had was over years ago, there's no sense in dragging it all up again, especially considering that the mission isn't even related to my first visit to Mandalore."

Sabé pressed her lips together tightly, disagreeing.

"Why," he went on, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that this whole thing is a monumentally bad idea."

Obi-Wan didn't seem to share her cynicism. "It will be fine," he said, with such nonchalance that Sabé reached out and caught his sleeve.

"Look...maybe I'm overstepping my boundaries here, but... _you_ may be fine with all of this, but think about _her_. She deserves to know about us. If you keep it from her it will just seem like we have something to hide. When she finds out - which she _will_ \- it will look worse that you didn't tell her."

He took in her words with a pensive look, but Sabé could already tell that she hadn't quite convinced him.

"Let's see how things go," he stated.

Edgy and annoyed, Sabé grudgingly nodded, accepting the conversation-stopper for what it was.

 _Gods help me, I don't want to meet her_ , she thought. _What if she still loves him? She's going to hate me._

She shot a stealthy glance at Obi-Wan, who appeared to be passively immersed in his own reflections.

 _He can't be as calm as he looks_ , she decided. _This is going to be interesting, if nothing else._

* * *

 **A/N:** That's the end of the more Padmé-centric chapters for now. I liked writing this one. The bulk of it is Sabé telling her story, but it also gave me a chance to show how well she and Obi-Wan work together, even when they're being domestic, plus add some bulk to their TPM back story.

Next chapter: Clone Wars territory! Duchess Satine!

Since there's no way I'll get another update out before the end of the year (most likely), let me take this opportunity to wish everyone happy holidays, whether you celebrate something or just enjoy the time off. Have a fun, relaxing time :)


	14. A Tense Reunion

****A/N:**** Welcome to the first update of 2019. Here's Duchess Satine. Plot and dialogue you recognise come from the Clone Wars series, which I do not own.

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen – A Tense Reunion.**

The following day after their short meeting with the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan piloted them to Mandalore. Sabé was feeling rather on edge, a mixed whirlwind of thoughts spinning in her head. One by one, she tried to confront them head-on. She was afraid that she would be jealous. She didn't want to be, she knew it would be petty, but she feared it all the same. She worried that she wouldn't like the duchess. She worried that she _would_ and Obi-Wan would feel awkward. She wondered what the outcome of their discussion the previous day would be, when Satine inevitably found out about their marriage. Sabé couldn't see any scenario where that turned out well, and she didn't think it was just cynicism.

Obi-Wan's outward demeanour had barely changed, other than that he was being a little quieter than usual. She wondered if he was still in love with the duchess, despite the years that had passed and his dedication to his duty. It seemed an impertinent question to ask, so she continued guessing. Maintaining loyalty to the Jedi Order didn't necessarily mean quashing his feelings, if it was even possible.

Their ship broke the atmosphere, skimming smoothly above a vast, flat plain of sun-bleached white sand. In the distance ahead, the shining city of Sundari sat within a protective bubble. As they drew closer, Sabé saw that the city shone because it was made almost exclusively of alacrete and transparisteel.

They were granted permission to land at the docks on the outskirts of the city, and Obi-Wan set the ship down with practiced ease. Outside, a skiff awaited them, a guard in smart, elaborate armour standing patiently by. They emerged from the ship, Sabé struggling to maintain her dignity in the more casual of her formal dresses. The muted crimson gown had practical tight sleeves, but its flowing skirt was not made for travel in small ships with cockpits that needed to be climbed in and out of. Since she wouldn't have time to change before meeting the duchess, a flightsuit had been out of the question.

"The duchess awaits you, General Kenobi," the guard greeted them stoically when they approached.

"Far be it for me to keep the duchess waiting," Obi-Wan said wryly, gesturing Sabé aboard.

She accepted his hand as she stepped up, gripping onto the skiff's safety railing as they set off. Obi-Wan stood upright, arms folded, managing to keep his balance without help, despite the breeze that whipped his robe out behind him. The guard flew them through a nearby tunnel and out into the midst of the city. Sabé took in the sights around her, layer upon layer of glittering transparisteel buildings. There were very few patches of natural beauty, but unlike Coruscant, she did not find it so jarring. Obi-Wan wore a slight smile whenever she looked his way, seemingly amused by her sight-seeing.

The journey to the palace was not long. Soon enough they were slowing, approaching a huge, impressive building much in the same style as all the others, but much larger in scale. The guard dropped them off outside the tall front doors and Sabé squared her shoulders before following Obi-Wan inside.

Directed by another silent guard, they made their way down a wide corridor leading off from the entrance, their footsteps echoing on the white marble floor. Eventually they reached the main hall, a vast, high-ceilinged room paned with huge transparisteel windows. It was bathed in natural light, the sun glinting off the stained glass artwork on the walls. At the far end stood a throne on a dais, currently as vacant as the rest of the room.

Sabé exchanged a puzzled glance with Obi-Wan as they ventured into the empty space. Then a man appeared from one of the side corridors, dressed in a formal suit of pale fabric.

"General Kenobi," he greeted, approaching them. He was an older man, tall and thin, with striking lavender eyes.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Prime Minister Almec," Obi-Wan said warmly, shaking the man's hand. "This is Lady Sabé. She is currently under my protection and, as such, had to accompany me here. She plays no part in my investigation."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Almec nodded, courteous but lacking any real interest in her presence there.

Sabé bowed, saying nothing.

"I welcome you as a servant of the people," Almec said to Obi-Wan, "but I'm troubled by the false rumours that brought you here. Mandalore would never turn against the Republic. The Duchess Satine values peace more than her own life."

"Oh, I'm aware of the duchess's views," Obi-Wan assured him.

Almec fixed him with a sharp look. "Master Kenobi, Mandalore's violent past is behind us. All of our warriors were exiled to our moon, Concordia. They died out years ago."

Obi-Wan looked sceptical, but maintained his polite manner. "Are you certain? I recently encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armour: Jango Fett."

"Jango Fett was a common bounty hunter," Almec blustered, affronted. "How he acquired that armour is beyond me."

"Well, Master Kenobi," a clear, feminine voice rang out, turning all heads. "My shining Jedi Knight to the rescue once again." Her tone was faintly mocking.

The duchess strode into the room, climbing the steps to the throne and taking her seat with poise. The glass artwork behind the throne lit up, casting a warm aura of soft light around her. Sabé glanced at her with interest, curious about the woman she'd heard so much about, the woman part of her could not help inwardly referring to as her rival. As they walked closer, she saw a slim, elegant woman dressed in a flowing blue and green gown. Her features were porcelain-fair and aristocratic, her pale cerulean eyes regarding them both sharply. Her hair was a light golden blonde, cut short, almost entirely hidden by her elaborate headdress. She did not, fortunately, bear much resemblance to the rather unflattering, stylised portrait that dominated one wall of the throne room.

Sabé had never been negative about her own appearance, but faced with the duchess's ethereal beauty and obvious grace, she suddenly felt strangely homespun by comparison. Her hair, once neatly braided, was most likely windswept from the skiff ride, and her dress was cinched by a practical belt with her blaster at her hip.

 _You're a warrior,_ she told herself firmly, _she's a dignitary._

"After all these years, you're even more beautiful than ever," Obi-Wan said graciously.

It was the kind of over-the-top, gushing compliment that meeting dignitaries often exchanged, but Sabé couldn't help but wonder how much truth lay behind it. She fought hard not to fidget, uncomfortable in the situation.

"Kind words from a man who accuses me of treachery," the duchess all but snapped, her demeanour cold and self-protective.

"I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, Duchess," Obi-Wan put in levelly. "However, a Separatist saboteur attacked one of our Republic cruisers. A Mandalorian saboteur." He withdrew a holo projector from a pocket in his robe, playing the security footage that Master Yoda had given him.

They all watched the blue-tinted figure on the hologram shoot its blaster at an unseen target, before rolling and coming to a standstill as Obi-Wan paused the recording. The saboteur's armour was most definitely Mandalorian, or, at least, a very good imitation.

Sabé watched the duchess's face, seeing the anger and open hostility there, wondering if she was shocked, or simply furious that her scheme had been discovered. For Obi-Wan's sake, she hoped it was the former.

"You must be mistaken," Prime Minister Almec stuttered. "No Mandalorian would engage in such violence. Not anymore. Where is this prisoner now?"

Obi-Wan pocketed the holo projector, his tone growing sombre. "He took his own life rather than submit to questioning. I know these commandos fought in many wars, often against the Jedi."

"Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am," the duchess burst out fervently.

Sabé felt a flicker of sympathy as she saw everyone react to the rash statement.

One of her aides smiled patronisingly, his expression apologetic. "I know we sound defensive, but…"

"Clearly," the duchess interrupted, "your investigation was ordered because the Senate is eager to interfere in our affairs."

Sabé inwardly flinched, hoping that her presence as a Republic senator's handmaiden wasn't going to make the situation any more problematic.

"My investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council," Obi-Wan told her, the essence of calm. He was clearly used to her emotional outbursts.

The duchess lost some of her sharpness. "I stand corrected," she admitted. For the first time, she acknowledged Sabé, turning her gaze to her in mild curiosity. "Who have you brought with you?"

"Sabé, M'lady," Sabé said politely, dipping a quick, formal curtsey.

The duchess nodded to her, but looked at her blaster with a brief expression of distaste that she quickly hid.

"Lady Sabé is currently under my protection following an attempt on her life," Obi-Wan explained, the simple version of what was essentially the truth. "She is a neutral party here."

At his words, the duchess looked slightly puzzled, as if wondering why he'd mentioned Sabé's neutrality.

"I'm handmaiden to Senator Amidala of Naboo," she explained.

"I'm familiar with Senator Amidala's work," the duchess said. "I admire her principles, if not her allegiance to the Republic." If she was curious about why a mere handmaiden needed the protection of the Jedi, she was too polite to show it. "Very well. Perhaps you'd both like to join me on a walk through the city." It was not a question.

The duchess extended her hand, her face expectant. After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan stepped forward and took it, guiding her down the steps of the dais. The three of them crossed the hall to the exit, two silent guards trailing unobtrusively behind.

They stepped out into the warm yet fresh air, the duchess leading the way across the transparisteel floors of the raised walkways. For the first few minutes, a heavy silence hung. Sabé found it painfully awkward, and she scrambled for something to say that would not be inappropriate for a neutral party.

"This is a beautiful city, Duchess," she spoke up eventually.

Obi-Wan shot her a raised eyebrow. She was not one for small talk, as he was well aware. No doubt he was wondering why she was making the effort now.

"Thank you," the duchess replied. "Mandalore's architects considered beauty almost as highly as practicality, often finding new solutions to solve problems rather than compromise on the look of a building. In an area as barren as this, we must create our own beauty."

"Naboo's architects took a similar approach, but they were more willing to sacrifice practicality for art. Yours seem to have hit the balance much better."

Satine sent her an appreciative look. "It's all too easy to take our homeworlds for granted. It's good to see them through another's eyes."

"It's all changed a great deal," Obi-Wan commented, glancing around.

"A lot can happen in seventeen years," the duchess said blankly.

"Yes," he agreed softly.

Sabé glanced at the floor, feeling ill at ease again, ardently wishing she hadn't come. As nice as it was to leave Coruscant for a while, she didn't think it was worth it. Not with so much unspoken between them all. Sending Obi-Wan a brief look, she quickened her pace a little, leaving the other two behind. She could still hear their conversation, but it was easier to pretend otherwise than when she was right beside them.

"It's…so good to see you again, Obi-Wan," the duchess said, her tone the gentlest Sabé had heard it so far. "Despite the circumstances."

"Your peaceful ways have paid off," Obi-Wan remarked. To Sabé, he still seemed a little on edge himself.

 _Not as calm as he appears. I thought as much._

"Mandalore has prospered since the last time I was here."

"Not everyone on Mandalore believes that our commitment to peace is a sign of progress," Satine told him jadedly. "There is a group that calls itself Death Watch. I imagine these are the renegades you're looking for."

 _Well that was quick_ , Sabé thought, at the same time as she was thinking, _She doesn't trust me enough to speak of this while I'm present._

She knew she shouldn't be surprised, but working for Padmé and the Queen, she'd gotten used to being trusted implicitly.

"They idolise violence and the warrior ways of the past," the duchess was explaining. "There are those among us, certain officials, who are working to root out these criminals. It has been an ongoing investigation."

"How widespread is this Death Watch movement?" Obi-Wan asked.

"It's hardly a movement," Satine said, a little defensively. "It's a small group of hooligans who choose to vandalise public places, nothing more. We shall soon have them in custody. We have tracked them down to our moon, Concordia."

Obi-Wan did not sound convinced. "I hope you're right, Duchess."

Privately, Sabé agreed with him. Sabotaging a Republic cruiser was no easy task, not with the clone army guarding it. She was trying hard not to make snap judgements, especially considering what she knew she and Satine had in common, but to her, the duchess sounded rather naïve. Albeit with the best of intentions. Mandalore's neutrality was understandable, but it seemed it had kept them from learning a few hard truths about the galaxy's current state of affairs.

"So do I," the duchess murmured.

There was silence for a while, the sounds of the city surrounding them. Sabé followed the path the walkway led her on, not having a clue where she was going, but enjoying the scenery. She could hear her companions' footsteps behind her. Shortly, their conversation started up again and they traded friendly arguments. Sabé tuned them out for a while, lost in her own thoughts. When she started listening again, they were still bickering.

"A peacekeeper belongs on the frontlines of conflict," Obi-Wan was saying. "Otherwise he wouldn't be able to do his job."

"The work of a peacekeeper is to make sure that conflict does not arise," Satine argued, sounding amused.

"Yes, a noble description, but not a realistic one."

"Is reality what makes a Jedi abandon his ideals?" Satine asked.

Sabé sensed there was more to her question than there appeared. She fought the urge to turn around and tell them they were both right.

"Or," the duchess went on, "is it simply a response to political convenience?"

Whatever Obi-Wan was going to say in reply was cut short by the monument ahead exploding. Much closer than the others, Sabé found herself flung backwards by the blast, rolling to a rough stop on the ground, her ears ringing, her elbow scraped, but otherwise unhurt. She saw that Obi-Wan and the duchess had both stayed on their feet. Obi-Wan assessed Satine's condition in a glance, seeing that all was well. Then he was running towards Sabé.

"Are you all right?" he asked, dropping to one knee to help her up.

A little dazed, she accepted his help. "Yes, I'm not hurt."

The duchess ran forward, crouching down beside one of the many wounded people. With a concerned look at Sabé, who waved him away, Obi-Wan followed her.

Sabé spotted a middle-aged man in difficulty near to the blast point and she hurried over, dropping to her knees as she reached him. A shard of transparisteel had pierced his side, the blood staining his tunic. His face contorted in pain, sweat beading his forehead.

"Get it out, get it out!" he cried at her, eyes wide with fear.

"If I do that you'll bleed out," she told him, gripping his hand tightly.

"Aren't I already doing that?" he snapped. "Please!"

She peeled back his sodden shirt to get a closer look. The blood flow was substantial.

"The wound needs pressure on it," she said aloud. "So I do need to get the shard out first. It's going to hurt."

"It already hurts," he whimpered.

"Okay then," Sabé said with a grimace. "On three, ready?"

The man managed a shaky nod.

"One." She pulled the shard out.

The man gave a yell, which she ignored. She tore a strip off his shirt and bunched it into a pad, quickly pressing it hard to the wound. The blood flow slowed immediately.

"You lied," the man accused her weakly.

"Yup," she admitted with a grin, trying to get him to smile.

It seemed to work to some extent, although he was still in a lot of pain.

"Lie still," she ordered. "The medics will be here soon."

"Hooligans couldn't have arranged an attack on this scale," she heard Obi-Wan say.

"Then this must be the work of an offworlder," the duchess shot back icily.

Obi-Wan's tone was stern. "Are you sure of that?"

Turning, Sabé followed his gaze. Satine did likewise. At the centre of the blast zone, an orange-coloured hologram rotated, showing a three-pronged symbol that Sabé was not familiar with.

"The sign of the Death Watch," the duchess breathed, sounding horrified.

Obi-Wan crouched to her eye level, saying in a gentle but firm voice, "This goes far beyond vandalism. This is a political statement against your government, and against you."

An official cut through them to help up the wounded man Satine had been comforting.

"You're not safe here," Obi-Wan went on. "I'm taking you back to the palace."

Offering her a hand, he helped her to her feet. The duchess stared at him for a long moment.

Looking away from the scene, Sabé glanced down at her patient. He was pale and clammy, eyes a little more glazed than she would like.

"Hey," she said, giving him a gentle shake. "Stay with me."

He did not reply, his eyelids fluttering shut. Sabé whipped her head round, yelling, "I need a medic here!"

Obi-Wan was at her side in seconds, the duchess following in his wake.

"They're coming now," Satine told her, glancing around to see.

"Sabé, you've done everything you can," Obi-Wan put in, gripping her shoulder.

Satine gestured the medical team towards them and Sabé let go of her makeshift gauze pad, letting one of the professionals take over. Obi-Wan pulled her up, gripping her shoulders, her bloodstained hands hanging by her sides as she resisted the urge to wipe them on her skirt. She only had one dress with her.

"Your quick actions probably saved his life," he said gently.

"I hope so."

"Come on, you can clean up at the palace."

Sabé nodded, and the three of them turned away from the scene. A crowd of onlookers had gathered nearby, and Obi-Wan stepped forward to address them.

"I want to interview everyone here," he said, voice ringing with authority. "Nobody leaves this scene."

One man decided to ignore him, darting away into the crowd amid gasps of surprise. Obi-Wan spun to look, the two women reacting a beat slower.

"You there!" he shouted, before taking off after him.

Sabé and the duchess watched him go, both too stunned to move. Then Sabé muttered, "Oh, for pity's sake," and darted after them, Satine at her heels.

They managed to follow, just catching sight of the hem of Obi-Wan's robe as he turned corners. Their pursuit led them down a set of stairs, where they emerged onto a wide balcony. There had clearly been a brief scuffle. The fugitive was sprawled face down on the ground, Obi-Wan standing not far away.

"I don't want to hurt you," he was saying. He spotted their arrival and threw out a hand. "Stay back!"

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, the man hopped up on the railing, yelling something in an unfamiliar dialect, arms spread wide. Then he let himself fall.

Sabé heard the sickening blow of his impact, followed by screams from the people walking below. She and Satine rushed to the edge, where Obi-Wan had already moved. Satine let out a soft gasp, raising her hands to her face as she looked down. Without a word, she spun on her heel and headed back the way they'd come.

Sabé and Obi-Wan exchanged a grim glance, then followed her. They hurried down the stairs and out the door below. Satine approached the dying man, who reached out to her and spoke in a weak voice. The transparisteel floor had cracked beneath him, giving him a strange aura of jagged, criss-crossing lines.

"What is he saying?" Obi-Wan asked her.

The duchess ignored him, bending closer to hear the man's rasps. In a gentle voice, she spoke back to him in the same language. The fugitive studied her face for a moment, then he fell backwards, eyes drifting shut.

"He was speaking in the dialect they use on Concordia, our moon," Satine explained, the slump of her shoulders showing her weariness.

"I should like to visit this moon of yours," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, and not without sensitivity. "Perhaps I could accompany the body."

"The Concordian moon is a province with its own governor," Satine sighed, getting to her feet. "You'll need me to escort you."

Obi-Wan held up a hand. "That won't be necessary."

"Actually, it will," she countered evenly. "You won't make much progress without me there, especially since you've just been involved with the death of a Concordian."

"I didn't kill him," he reminded her delicately.

The duchess fixed him with a stern look, one that promised that she was not truly angry with him. "I know. That's why I'm still talking to you." She breezed past him, heading for the building they'd rushed through to get there.

Sabé raised her eyebrows in surprise and faint amusement at the duchess's tone. Obi-Wan caught her gaze and shook his head, looking a touch bewildered. They kept pace together as they walked after Satine.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked, sending her a sidelong glance. "I'm sorry you've been on your own, I…sort of got caught up."

"I noticed," she replied, making a valiant effort not to feel a little bitter. "I'm okay, truly. Just bruised. And…of course the duchess isn't going to want to talk about anything that matters with me standing there. She has no reason to trust me, I get that."

"She can take my word for it," he said, drawing a smile from Sabé. "But I don't think that will be a problem, not after the way you tended to one of her people."

"I just did what anyone with the same knowledge would do."

"Even still. It was a kindness she won't forget."

The duchess was waiting for them at the top of the stairs, hands neatly clasped. "We'll go back to the palace to clean up," she said as they approached, "then I'll accompany you to Concordia. I assume you want to go as soon as possible."

"Yes," Obi-Wan confirmed. "We don't want any repeats of what happened today."

"With that, I whole-heartedly agree."

Back at the palace, Sabé was shown into a guest room where she could visit the fresher and scrub the blood from her hands. Her bag had been taken from their ship and placed on the bed, much to her relief. Lying the formal dress aside, she donned a tight jumpsuit of tawny-coloured fabric, strapping her gun belt around her waist. She tugged on black boots and a maroon vest that made her think of the old handmaiden battle dresses from when Padmé was Queen. She quickly brushed and re-braided her hair, then joined Obi-Wan in the corridor. They headed back to the throne room, where they were to wait for the duchess.

"How are you?" Sabé asked quietly, mindful of the way sound echoed in the huge room.

He glanced at her, surprised. "I'm fine, why?"

She slanted an eyebrow at him. "You know why," she said, lowering her voice even more. "You think I forgot that conversation we had in the Jedi Temple cafeteria?"

"Ah. Right."

"Yes, right."

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Really. I'm just…a little on edge."

Hearing that sort of admission from him was rare, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're a strong man, Obi-Wan. Stronger than anyone else I know. You always do the right thing."

"So far," he murmured, almost to himself. "Sometimes I have a capacity to…bend the rules. As I'm sure you remember."

By silent agreement, they never spoke of the night of their marriage. They were both aware that it was something that probably shouldn't have happened.

Sabé felt her cheeks redden a touch as she nodded, and she dropped her hand. "Oh, I remember," she said softly.

Since she had become aware of her feelings for him, that night had been an almost-constant torture, cruelly reminding her of the intimacy they had shared that she would never feel again. Their closeness had been brief, yet she missed it desperately.

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied her, and she wondered if she'd revealed too much in her tone of voice. She'd been keeping her feelings guarded, unwilling to complicate their arrangement.

A clatter of footsteps alerted them to Duchess Satine's presence, and they turned to greet her. She too had decided to dress more practically, wearing a feminine ensemble in shades of pink, her hair loose and framing her face.

"Are you ready?" she asked them.

"Whenever you are, Duchess," Obi-Wan replied courteously.

"Let us go to the docks then. I've made arrangements for the bomber's body to travel with us." She headed for the main door, still elegant even without her fine gown.

Obi-Wan gestured Sabé forward, and she studied his face for a moment before moving. The faint suspicion that had been there before Satine's entrance was gone, and she hoped it was gone for good. The last thing she wanted was for him to figure out that she was in love with him.

* * *

Padmé was taking a break in the upstairs lounge when Anakin buzzed her comlink and meekly asked if he could see her. Since she was quite literally doing nothing, (something she found extremely difficult to maintain, but that she tried to do at least once a week), she agreed. Within ten minutes he was at her door, being shown in by an enthusiastic See-Threepio.

As he entered the room, Anakin looked vaguely surprised.

"I thought Obi-Wan might be here," he said, as Threepio left them alone. "I was prepared to say I hadn't seen you for months."

"He and Sabé left on a mission to Mandalore," she clarified, getting to her feet. "Something came up that required Obi-Wan's particular attention. Since he's protecting Sabé, she had to go with him."

"So…we're okay here?"

She frowned at him. "Yes, why? Oof!"

Darting forward, Anakin swept her up in a hug and twirled her around. Unable to keep from laughing, she whacked the back of his shoulder.

"Let me down!"

Grinning, he did so, and Padmé sat back down to catch her breath. Anakin joined her, lying down and resting his head in her lap. He was so tall, his feet hung off the end of the sofa.

"Ani," she scolded lightly, "Captain Typho and the handmaidens are downstairs."

"Anakin," he corrected. "And so? They know about us."

"Yes, but I don't…" She trailed off. There was no way for her to explain that she didn't want Gregar stumbling upon them.

"What?"

"It's not important." Idly she combed her fingers through his hair. It had grown a lot since he had become a Knight. "I heard you were back," she said, changing the subject. "Have you been busy?"

"Ahsoka lost her lightsaber," he told her. "She thinks I didn't notice, but I did. She went and got it back on her own. I was just supervising. From afar."

"Good for her," Padmé commented. "But…maybe not so much that she didn't want to tell you about it."

"Eh. I know how she feels. Owning up to losing or breaking a lightsaber can be embarrassing. Especially when, in my case, it was Obi-Wan I was owning up to. He has the worst disapproving look I've ever seen."

"Maybe you shouldn't have done so much to deserve it then," Padmé teased.

"Hey!"

They fell into a peaceful silence. It was almost how it had been in the early days of their relationship: sweet, with no sign of the shadows that haunted Anakin's good moods. Yet Padmé knew that she had made a mistake that day back at Varykino Lodge. However much she adored him, what she'd said when they'd first met after ten years still held true: he'd always be that little boy she'd known on Tatooine.

"I'm sorry," he said, breaking through her observations. "For…you know. Getting angry."

Padmé said nothing, suddenly afraid that her thoughts were no longer private.

"It's just that sometimes…" He sighed heavily, frustrated. "It's like…the words come pouring out and I can't stop them. At the time, I don't _want_ to stop them, but afterward… I can't lose you, Padmé. That's what…I'm afraid of."

"Anakin…"

"I _can't_ lose you. I don't know what I would do without you. You're the best part of me."

Trying not to let her dismay show, she rested her hand on the top of his head. "Anakin, you shouldn't think of me that way."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a whole person, just you. The best part of you is _you_. You can keep the darkness away, not me."

"Sometimes it's stronger than I am," he said quietly. "Sometimes it's like…it owns me. Like I don't have a choice."

"You do have a choice," she told him firmly. "You shouldn't… _need_ me."

"But I do need you," he insisted. "We're meant to be together."

Padmé swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "Please don't say that, Anakin. I don't feel like…" She halted, then tried again. "I can't take the pressure of…being needed in that way."

He stared up at her, clearly stumped by her words.

 _He has no idea why I feel this way_ , she realised. _He doesn't understand it at all_.

"It's…just because I'm afraid," he said eventually. "Some of the dreams I have… I lose you. I'll do anything to keep them from coming true."

 _That's what worries me_ , she thought.

Padmé bit her tongue to keep her expression neutral. Inside, her anxiety raged.

 _He'll never let me go_.


	15. Concordia's Truth

**Chapter Fifteen – Concordia's Truth.**

The moon of Concordia was dominated by rocky mountains and sparsely-growing forests, as different to Mandalore as it was possible to get. As their ship swept in to land in the hangar of the settlement there, Sabé caught sight of several exotic-looking birds sharing their airspace.

"I thought Concordia was an agricultural settlement," Obi-Wan spoke up as they descended, his gaze taking in the view.

"Before the end of our wars, they turned it into a mining base," Satine explained. "The sheer number of mining facilities here nearly destroyed our forests. They're finally growing back."

Obi-Wan sent her a quick smile, seeming to sense that she was pleased by the development.

Sabé and Obi-Wan joined Satine on the ship's entry lift. As they were carried down to ground level, Sabé saw that a small group of people awaited them. From their attire, she surmised that it was the governor and his security.

As they got closer, the governor spoke up, "Duchess Satine, you are most welcome."

"Thank you, Governor Vizsla," Satine returned politely. "May I present Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, representing the Jedi Council, and Lady Sabé who is under his protection." To Obi-Wan, she said, "Governor Vizsla is one of the officials I spoke of. He has been working to find the members of the Death Watch."

"I take it you've heard the rumours about Satine," Vizsla said. His voice was rather nasal. It did not suit his square-jawed, classically handsome appearance. "About how she's supposedly leading Mandalore into an alliance with the Separatists."

"My only instructions are to seek the truth," Obi-Wan reaffirmed.

Behind them, two guards escorted the casket of the dead suspect. Vizsla watched it go by, looking mildly concerned. "This was the man who bombed the memorial shrine?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "He was apparently part of Death Watch."

"A worrisome prospect," Vizsla muttered. "If you'll pardon me, General, we must attend to the body." Throwing a glance back at Satine as invitation to follow, the governor headed after the casket, his guards accompanying him.

Satine moved to go too, but Obi-Wan caught her arm. She turned to him in surprise.

"I need a favour from you," he explained. "Please keep Governor Vizsla occupied at dinner."

Satine looked at him warily. "Where are you going?"

"Just for a look around," he said nonchalantly. "I'd like to see one of these mining facilities for myself."

"You mean you want to determine if they're still operational?"

"I hope to determine they're not," he countered. "Sabé, you should stay here too. It will look more suspicious if we're both missing. You'll be safe here."

Sabé frowned. She knew he was right, but she didn't like the idea of him going off alone. Still, she knew from experience that she would not change his mind. With a resigned sigh, she pulled her com from a pouch on her belt.

"What's your frequency?"

"180.35."

Making the adjustments, Sabé slipped the device in her ear, tugging some hair down to cover it.

"I shouldn't get any other calls through while I'm patched into your com," she told him.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Good. Duchess, I want you to wear an ear piece too, in case you run into trouble while I'm gone."

Satine looked sceptical, but she did as he said. "Remember that you are here under my protection," she reminded him as he ran for a nearby speeder bike. "Please try not to cause problems where none yet exist."

"Think of me as searching for solutions," he quipped, slipping out of his robe before powering the bike up.

"Make sure you don't destroy anything while you search," Sabé put in.

"You're confusing me with Anakin," Obi-Wan shot back.

"I have to tell you," Satine called, "I'm opposed to all of this."

"I'd be disappointed if you weren't," he said smoothly, gliding away and out the open hangar door.

The two women exchanged a knowing glance, Satine looking disapproving but unsurprised.

"I suppose we should join Governor Vizsla before he suspects something," the duchess mused aloud.

Sabé nodded her agreement, and they left the hangar. Satine knew her way around, leading them to Vizsla's spacious office. The governor had his back to them, facing the huge window that dominated the far wall. He was typing rapidly on a data pad.

"Forgive me, Duchess," he said as they entered. "I'm writing a condolence letter to the dead man's family and making arrangements for them to retrieve his body."

"Of course, Governor. Very proper," Satine told him. "General Kenobi will join us shortly. He said he needed to…meditate."

She glanced over at Sabé, who gave the tiniest of nods. It was a plausible story, but how long it would hold up was open for debate.

"Well," said Vizsla, shooting them a glance over his shoulder, "we can wait. Please excuse me for a moment while I finish this."

"Of course."

While he typed, Sabé took the time to study the abstract artwork on the walls, and to take a look at what she could see of his desk. A lot could be told of a person by what they had on their desk. Vizsla's looked conspicuously tidy.

Satine took a seat at the head of the table that sat squarely in the centre of the room. After her rather unprofitable sweep of the office, Sabé joined her, sitting on her left.

"So, tell me, Lady Sabé," the duchess began conversationally, "has it hindered you in any way to be at the beck and call of the Jedi Council?"

Recognising the attempt to break the silence for what it was, Sabé was happy to answer. "Oh yes. My employer was not particularly pleased that I had to disappear today, but she understands the situation. Fortunately, the Council have not seen fit to send Obi-Wan on many missions away from Coruscant, so my life has been relatively undisturbed."

"I noticed you call him Obi-Wan and not Master Kenobi," Satine pointed out.

Sabé detected the barest hint of an edge to her voice, possibly the duchess was not even aware of it herself.

"We've been friends for many years," she explained. "Perhaps you've heard of the Trade Federation invasion of Naboo that happened twelve years ago?"

"I have heard of it, but not in detail," the duchess said. "Naboo was always a peaceful planet, was it not?"

"Yes. It still is. We only fought then out of necessity. My current employer, Senator Amidala, was Queen of Naboo back then. Naboo is home to both a human and Gungan population, and the two races never saw eye to eye until she forged an alliance between them. That alliance has held ever since."

"That is admirable," Satine said, her expression full of respect.

"It is," Sabé agreed. "But in order to get to that point, we had relied on the help of the Jedi: Obi-Wan and his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, whom I believe you were acquainted with."

"I was. I was saddened to hear of his death."

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the sky was gradually darkening. A light inside the table top was gaining in brightness the darker it got, ensuring that the room was never unilluminated.

"There," said Vizsla, interrupting them. He placed his data pad on his desk and turned to face them. "Sorry for my preoccupation."

"Not at all, Governor," Satine said smoothly. "It was right that you should send condolences to the man's family, despite his actions."

"Indeed. It is…regrettable that someone under my jurisdiction should feel the need to do such a thing."

"I'm sure nobody would blame you, Governor," Sabé spoke up, determined to remind him that she was there. She didn't like the way he'd ignored her so far. It was true that she was meant to be a neutral party, but helping the duchess keep him occupied seemed more important.

"Thank you for saying so, Lady Sabé," Vizsla replied. "Now, can I get either of you ladies a drink?"

They both accepted, and Vizsla surveyed a collection of bottles in a well-hidden cupboard behind a wall panel.

"What brings a Jedi to us anyway, Duchess?" he asked as he brought three glasses over to the table. "Is it just the rumours about us joining the Separatists?"

"Partially. The Jedi Council sent him to investigate the sabotage of a Republic ship. It looks like Death Watch are behind it. The Jedi Council are apparently of the opinion that they present a far bigger problem than we anticipated."

Vizsla poured ingredients into a cocktail mixer as he listened, waiting for Satine to stop talking before he began shaking it.

"Someone is feeding misinformation directly to the Republic Senate, saying that the Death Watch is taking over Mandalore," Satine went on. "Who stands to gain from these lies?"

"Death Watch, of course," Vizsla answered, pouring her a drink.

"They could not engineer all this." She raised a weary hand to her forehead. "The problem has clearly grown much larger than we thought. And I suspect some external force helped it along."

"Hard to believe," Vizsla said.

He poured the mixture into the other two glasses, pushing one across the table to Sabé. She nodded her thanks.

"It would have to be someone at the highest level of influence among the Separatists," the governor theorised.

"But why target me?" asked the duchess, her disappointment leaking into her tone.

"You lead the Council of Neutral Systems, thus you threaten the Separatists' goals," Vizsla pointed out, taking his seat opposite Sabé. "Take it as a compliment. Someone very powerful is working towards your downfall."

The duchess looked anything _but_ complimented as she frowned at the table top.

Sabé sipped her drink. It was not to her taste, but she swallowed it anyway, glad to have something to do. Time was ticking away.

 _Obi-Wan, what are you up to?_

"How do you like the drink, Lady Sabé?" Vizsla asked her, as if guessing her opinion.

"It's very good, Governor. Unlike anything I've tried before."

"It's a cocktail of my own invention. I like to experiment with ingredients."

"What an interesting hobby," Sabé said with false enthusiasm.

Vizsla smiled complacently. "Thank you."

A silence fell. They all emptied their glasses, Satine doing so in more of a hurry than the others. Clearly the discussion had upset her.

"General Kenobi's meditation is taking a rather long time," Vizsla said at length. Sabé couldn't tell if he was suspicious or mocking.

"You know the Jedi," Satine said lightly, playing with her glass, "they never do anything by halves."

As if summoned by their talk, Obi-Wan's voice suddenly filtered through Sabé's headset. She could tell from Satine's slight jump that he was broadcasting to her too.

"Sabé, Duchess, please acknowledge."

"May I offer you another drink?" asked Vizsla.

Sabé quickly flicked the microphone setting on her ear piece while the governor's attention was on Satine, so it would pick up everything she said.

"Yes," Satine replied, sweeping her hair behind her ear as she held the button on her own com, "certainly."

"I'm fine," Sabé answered, knowing that the fact he could hear her at all would let Obi-Wan know she was listening.

"I'm in a bit of an awkward spot," Obi-Wan went on. "I'm being held by the Death Watch."

Sabé's heart sank.

"Sorry, Duchess, we're out of ice," Vizsla reported, examining the container.

"Sorry to hear that," Satine answered them both.

Vizsla set the refilled glass in front of her. "Perhaps we should begin dinner without General Kenobi."

"There's a tracking function on your comlink," Obi-Wan said. "Follow it due east to my location."

Awkward under Vizsla's constant scrutiny, Satine turned away, saying, "I don't know if I can do that at the moment."

"It's extremely urgent!" Obi-Wan insisted.

"Don't worry," Sabé said, getting to her feet. "Duchess, you mustn't think of etiquette when you're clearly not feeling well. Come on, I'm taking you for a walk in the fresh air."

"Thank you, Lady Sabé, I would appreciate that."

"Shall I escort you outside?" Vizsla offered.

"Take a speeder," Obi-Wan advised. "It's rough terrain."

"I'm sure we'll manage," Sabé said, smiling sweetly at the governor.

Sabé put an arm around Satine, and they left the room, picking up the pace as soon as they were out of sight. They sprinted for the hangar, each hopping on a speeder bike and powering it up. Outside, the light reflecting off the surface of Mandalore bathed the scenery in a silvery glow. There was a clear path to follow through the young trees, and the tracker on Satine's comlink concurred. The duchess could not communicate with Obi-Wan while she had both hands on the handlebars, but Sabé's Naboo-issue device still had an open channel.

"We're on our way to you now," she told him. "Hang tight."

"Is that supposed to be funny?" he groused.

"No, why?"

"You'll see when you get here."

Not encouraged by the comment, they sped up, pushing the bikes to their limit. After a few minutes they spotted another speeder bike parked outside an open door leading into the rock face.

"This must be it," Satine said, checking the tracking device.

Wary of wandering Death Watch members, they moved as silently as they could through the tunnels of the mine.

"Where exactly are you?" Satine asked.

"Listen for the loud, metallic clanging sound," Obi-Wan growled acerbically. "That would be the machine about to smash me into bits."

"Sarcasm is really not helping at this point, Obi-Wan," Sabé scolded as they ran.

Satine shot her a look of agreement before skidding to a halt. Sabé stopped too, glancing back to see what had caught the duchess's attention.

"Look, a control panel for the alarm," she indicated.

"Good thinking."

Tapping a few buttons, Satine set the alarm off, the obnoxious sound echoing through the tunnels. Distraction in place, they continued on their way, running low behind the conveyer belt that travelled the length of the corridor. As they reached the large processing plant at the end of the tunnel, two men in Mandalorian armour ran past them.

Obi-Wan was hanging upside down above the conveyer belt, suspended in some kind of amber-coloured force field. The belt was taking him steadily towards an ominous pair of steel plates that slammed together at regular intervals. The controls for it were located on an elevated platform to one side. Satine hopped over the conveyer belt, running towards it. Deciding to see what she could do from the ground, Sabé hurried over to see if she could get him out of his bonds.

"Well, it certainly took you long enough," Obi-Wan barked, watching Satine's progress.

"You know, we haven't saved you yet," she fired back.

"Yes," he said, looking ahead at the crushers. "No need to remind me of that."

"Be patient," she ordered, climbing the ladder.

"I happen to be a bit short on patience right now!"

Sabé walked backwards beside him, studying the contraption that held him, wondering if it would be safe to shoot him down. She drew her blaster, aiming it upwards, but hesitated.

"I don't know if I can get a clear shot," she admitted.

"There may not be another option!" Obi-Wan said. Tilting his head, he yelled, "Satine, turn the machine off!"

"I'm trying," the duchess hollered back.

"Satine!"

Sabé ran around the crushers, taking her aim on the other side.

"Sabé, shoot!" Obi-Wan ordered her.

Then there came a triumphant shout from above. "There!"

The crushers ground to a halt, a fraction of a second before Obi-Wan passed between them. Sabé squeezed the trigger, just as her blaster was knocked out of her hand. The shot went wide. Obi-Wan was still moving along the conveyer belt, heading to a collection of sharp-looking gears below.

The Death Watch warriors had returned. Sabé spun, aiming a kick at the one that had disarmed her. In her peripheral vision, she saw that the duchess had been grabbed by the second man. The warrior on Sabé's side of the belt hit out at her, and she ducked, raining punches that did very little other than bruise her hands. Still, she persevered, aiming for his neck, which was covered only by cloth.

Obi-Wan reached the end of the line, hovering over the unforgiving machinery for a beat before the force field dropped him. Satine kicked a barrel into the gears, jamming them. Obi-Wan landed on it hands first, pushing himself up into a flip, eventually kicking away the man that held her.

The warrior's colleague turned to watch. Sabé took advantage of his distraction, jabbing her foot into the back of his knee, wrenching off his helmet, then knocking him out with it. She dropped the helmet beside him, blowing loose strands of hair out of her face.

"We haven't much time," Obi-Wan said to her.

Taking a running leap at the conveyer belt, Sabé crossed it without touching it, not wishing to find herself tumbling into the machinery. Satine found the switch for the elevator and they piled into it.

"For a man sworn to peace, you take an unseemly pleasure in the injuries of others," Satine commented as they moved upwards.

"For a woman sworn to non-violence, you don't seem troubled that I could have been killed back there," Obi-Wan retorted, his tone bordering on irate.

"But you _weren't_ ," she stressed. "And yet I still haven't heard any thanks."

Sabé raised her eyebrows at the exchange, choosing to examine the wall beside her. She prayed to all the gods she could think of that they would leave her out of it.

"Well," she heard Obi-Wan say. "You certainly haven't changed much."

The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening automatically. Another warrior stood outside, his back to them. As he began to turn, Obi-Wan darted forward and knocked him out.

They were standing on a wide ledge above a valley dotted with several small buildings. Sabé could just make out the figures of several more Death Watch members below.

"They see us!" she warned.

Obi-Wan backed into the elevator, pressing the button for the doors. The panel buzzed unhelpfully. Suddenly they found themselves dodging blaster fire. Giving up on the lift, Obi-Wan pulled them both behind an outcrop of rock. The elevator sparked, then plummeted down.

"We'll have to stand and fight," Obi-Wan decided aloud. "Or, in your case," he added to Satine, "just stand."

Satine shot him a dirty look.

"Um," Sabé interjected, "I lost my blaster back there. And you seem to be missing something too."

Obi-Wan's hand hovered over the empty belt clip where his lightsaber usually hung. "Hmm," he murmured.

Three warriors were coming towards them, using their rocket packs to cover the distance quickly. Obi-Wan used the Force to pull the unconscious guard's blaster into his hands, returning fire. The shots missed and the warriors kept coming. Pausing a moment to study their movement, he squeezed the trigger. He hit the rocket pack of the man in the centre of the trio, and he flew backwards as it malfunctioned.

The remaining two continued to fire at them, sending tiny chips of rock flying. Obi-Wan leaned forward to remove the rocket pack from the guard he'd knocked out. With a grunt, he threw it, rolling out from behind the rock to shoot it. It exploded in a ball of flame, leaving them hidden in a curtain of smoke. They paused for a moment, the blaster still aimed. Then a warrior burst out of the smog, tackling Obi-Wan to the ground. Caught by surprise, he seemed to be on the defensive.

"Distract him!" Sabé ordered Satine, picking up the blaster that Obi-Wan had just dropped.

"You there!" the duchess shouted, throwing a stone at the warrior. Her aim was good, hitting him on the helmet.

He turned his attention to her, firing a round of shots that she had to dodge. Sabé leapt up on his back, the blaster pulled tight against his neck. He spun, trying to throw her off, but she clung on. Obi-Wan got back on his feet, tugging the warrior's blaster from his grip.

"Off!" he exclaimed.

Sabé hopped off the man's back a mere moment before Obi-Wan kicked his legs out from under him, then sent him rolling away.

"Going places with you is never boring," Sabé observed, as Satine emerged from behind the rock.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied. "Satine?"

"I'm all right," the duchess confirmed.

Down in the valley, ships were taking off. The only figures that remained were the four armoured men heading their way.

"They're evacuating," Sabé realised.

"This must be the leader," said Obi-Wan.

The man in front wore a small half-cloak sporting the Death Watch symbol, setting him apart from the others. The warrior that Obi-Wan had kicked away was just getting to his knees, his limbs shaky.

"Failure," the leader growled, shooting him in the chest.

Satine gasped.

Sabé noticed Obi-Wan's lightsaber hanging from his belt. Judging by the determined expression on his face, Obi-Wan had noticed it too, and he discarded the blaster. The group approached them, all four staring them down before the leader reached up and removed his helmet, revealing Vizsla's complacent face.

"Governor?" Satine breathed in disbelief.

"For generations my ancestors fought proudly as warriors against the Jedi," Vizsla spat. "Now _that_ woman tarnishes the very name Mandalorian. Defend her if you will."

He threw the lightsaber, which Obi-Wan caught easily and ignited, dropping into a stance that Sabé was familiar with from their sparring.

Vizsla tossed away his cloak, drawing an ancient sword-like weapon from his back.

"This lightsaber was stolen from your Jedi Temple by my ancestors during the fall of the Old Republic," Vizsla said, activating it. Its blade was black, unlike any lightsaber Sabé had ever seen. "Since then, many Jedi have died upon its blade." He pointed it at Obi-Wan. "Prepare yourself to join them."

Clutching her stolen blaster, Sabé backed up to join Satine at the rocky outcrop. She was a soldier, but she knew when to pick her fights. This was one she couldn't help with.

Giving a harsh battle cry, Vizsla leapt at Obi-Wan, who brought his blade up to block the attack. They traded blows, dancing around each other, but Sabé knew from experience that Vizsla wouldn't last long, however good a fighter he was. Obi-Wan had the Force on his side.

As if proving that fact, Obi-Wan threw out a hand, pushing Vizsla back into his three companions. Teeth grinding in rage, Vizsla shrugged off their assistance, plunging back into the duel. Obi-Wan sent a knee into his face for his troubles, knocking the ancient weapon out of his hand.

Vizsla punched him, knocking him back off his feet. Taking advantage of the reprieve, he rushed to pick up his lightsaber. Activating his rocket pack, he leapt high, aiming a sweeping downward cut. Obi-Wan eyed him critically from where he crouched, picking his moment carefully. In a Force-extended jump, he shot up to meet him, raining punches, eventually spinning Vizsla in a circle before sending him down to fall at his compatriots' feet.

He exchanged a glare with Obi-Wan, before yelling, "Warriors, finish him!"

Sabé aimed her blaster as the remaining three stepped forward, but they did not advance. Instead, they all bent forward, each shooting a missile from their rocket packs. Obi-Wan dodged them all, but rather than hitting the rocks behind him, they curved in a wide arc, coming back around. Sabé's eyes widened as she remembered the elevator was gone. Still, the lift shaft was their only plausible exit. Obi-Wan seemed to think so too, backing away towards it, calling for Satine. The duchess left her cover and ran to him, Sabé on her heels.

"Sabé, my left!" Obi-Wan yelled.

Darting to his other side, Sabé clung on as Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around her waist. Without hesitation, he leapt down the lift shaft as the missiles hit above them. He slowed their fall with the Force at the last possible moment, manoeuvring them sideways into an open corridor a few floors up from the bottom. They landed awkwardly, all rolling away from each other. Obi-Wan tried to protect the duchess from raining shrapnel, and Sabé threw her hands over her head to do the same. Eventually, all was still, but for the sound of burning above and below.

"Is everyone all right?" Obi-Wan asked, sitting up.

"Fine," Sabé affirmed, at the same time the duchess said, "Yes."

"Sabé?" he added. "I couldn't reach you, did any of the debris hit you?"

"Not that I noticed," she told him truthfully.

She sent him a tiny smile to reassure him, and he nodded.

"I think we should be on our way," he said, grunting as he got to his feet. "They could come looking for us."

"I would imagine they'll run away like the cowards they are," Satine said bitterly, accepting a hand up.

"Even still, we should move now."

Sabé led the way, brandishing the blaster she had stubbornly kept hold of. Satine followed behind, supporting a limping Obi-Wan. It was not long before they found themselves back outside with their speeders.

"Are you going to be able to ride?" Satine asked.

"I'm injured, not infirm," he told her. "And it's only a sprain, it will be gone in the morning."

"I merely asked," she said, holding up a defensive hand. "I suppose we're even now."

"Oh?" he said curiously. "How so?"

Leaving him by a speeder, she shrugged as she headed for her own. "I saved your life, you saved mine…"

"Yes…" Obi-Wan admitted. "Well, mine was the more daring of the two rescues."

Satine seemed to be wryly amused, but Sabé threw up her hands in despair.

"Gods, will you just stop? You're like children!" Irritated, she tossed the blaster aside and swung her leg over her speeder bike.

Satine looked affronted, but Obi-Wan wore a chastened expression.

"I'm…sorry," he said humbly. "Duchess, thank you for saving my life. You too, Sabé."

Sabé shrugged off the thanks, still irked.

"You're welcome," Satine replied, a little more sweetly. "And thank you for saving mine."

Sabé powered up her speeder, leaving them both behind. She knew they would follow within minutes. She had very rarely seen Obi-Wan act the way he had during the course of their single day in the Mandalore system. Satine still got under his skin, that much was painfully clear. Tears pricked her eyes and were snatched away by the wind. She couldn't wait to get back to the palace, shut herself in her guest room and burrow under the bed clothes.

Satine's guards were waiting for them back at the hangar. They eyed Sabé warily when she arrived, and she quickly reassured them that the duchess was following on behind. It was only a wait of two minutes or so before Obi-Wan and Satine appeared, the former shooting her a concerned and slightly puzzled look.

"Tell the pilot to ready the ship," Satine said to her guards. "We're returning to the palace."

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked Sabé in a low voice. "Why did you run off like that?"

"I'm tired and I ache," she replied levelly. "Having a weaponless fight with someone wearing armour is no joke."

He lifted one of her hands, studying the stormy-coloured bruise that was already forming across her knuckles. "Yes, I see."

Feeling self-conscious, she pulled away. "I just want to get back and sleep," she said apologetically.

Obi-Wan scrutinised her, looking thoughtful. "All right. Tomorrow we're returning to Coruscant."

She glanced at him, surprised. "So soon?"

"The duchess wishes to address the Senate to plead her case and reaffirm her neutrality. I'm going to contact the Council and see if they can send someone to meet us with a squad of clone troopers, so we can ensure her safety on the journey."

"I see."

The entry lift came down as the ship powered up. Satine stepped onto it and glanced at them expectantly. Sabé went to join her, Obi-Wan retrieving his robe and shrugging it on before following suit.

It was a quiet trip back to Mandalore, each of them lost in their own thoughts. When they were safely back at the palace, Satine offered them dinner, despite the late hour. Sabé declined, pleading her injuries, and bade them good night before she could hear whether Obi-Wan accepted.

Safely shut in her room, she retreated to the fresher and ran a bath, running on autopilot as she turned the day's events over in her mind. Hissing as the warm water caressed her bruised skin, she sank into it, letting it soothe her. She wasn't badly hurt, she'd certainly had worse, but she was glad to have the excuse to escape.

 _You knew what it would be like,_ she told herself, _to watch the two of them meet again_.

 _Exactly_ , another part of her reflected, _that's why I didn't want to come._

She let herself slip down, so that all but her nose was underwater. Eyes firmly shut, she replayed everything that had happened, every little moment she had witnessed between Obi-Wan and Satine, leading up to her outburst outside the mine.

 _You shouldn't have reacted so emotionally_ , she scolded herself. _Why does love make me so irrational? It's not like anything unexpected happened. It's not like I have any expectations of Obi-Wan either._

She knew better than that, at least.

Sabé pushed herself back up, wiping the excess water from her eyes. She had to get a grip, or she would give herself away. No good could come from the situation, whichever way she looked at it. Obi-Wan was a Jedi, an unavailable man. And if he sometimes found himself bending the rules, as he'd said, it was Satine he would look to, not her. Perhaps that was what hurt. He _was_ willing to ignore certain parts of the Code, just not for her.

 _Stop it_.

Her stomach gave a growl, reminding her that skipping dinner hadn't been her best idea. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now except use up the hours until breakfast by sleeping. Using the different coloured gels at her disposal, she washed body and hair before draining the bath and stepping out. Wrapping thick towels around herself and her hair, she padded back into the bedroom in search of her night clothes.

Obi-Wan was sitting on the bed.

Sabé froze, for a moment unable to process his appearance.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, trying not to sound hostile.

"I brought you some food. I thought you might be regretting rushing off."

 _Damn you and your perceptiveness_ , she ranted inwardly.

"How did you get in? I thought I locked the door."

He offered a shrug. "Jedi." He reached out a hand, showing her an object wrapped in a napkin. "It's a bread roll and…some kind of meat. I'm not sure exactly what it is."

She accepted it, thanking him, and set it down on the bed so she could look through her bag. Finally locating the shorts and vest she wore for sleeping, she looked up at him.

"Could you, uh, turn around please?"

Obi-Wan glanced away at once. Keeping an eye on the back of his head, Sabé dropped her towel and shimmied into her clothes. He wasn't the kind of man to sneak a look, but she didn't want any awkwardness, even accidental.

"Does Satine know you're here?" she could not help asking.

"I doubt it," he replied. "She went to bed."

"Okay, I'm done."

He looked back at her, seemingly appraising her mood. Sabé let him get on with it, tugging the towel from her hair and attacking the tangles with her hairbrush.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

It was a larger question than he realised, but she wasn't about to let him know that. Neither could she say it was nothing, a lie that he would see through at once.

"I'm just a little edgy, that's all," she said. "I told you before we came, I don't like not raising the subject of our relationship. It looks like we're hiding it. And…if I may say, the duchess still seems…quite taken with you."

He frowned slightly, clasping his hands inside his sleeves. "Yes," he muttered softly, "I know."

Winning her battle, Sabé lowered her brush. She scooped up the roll and joined him, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"May I be frank?" she ventured.

"Of course."

"I'm not sure that bickering with her is helping. I mean, I think others notice…you know, that there's…something."

Obi-Wan nodded, staring at the floor. Sabé pulled small pieces off the roll, chewing them as she waited for him to reply. The meat was light and bland, but not unpleasant. She still wasn't sure what it was.

"She…brings that out in me," he confessed at length. "I don't know why, but we've always been able to argue with the best of them. I used to think that perhaps it was a sign of, uh… _other_ tension. But in hindsight…" He sighed, meeting her gaze. "You remember what I told you when you first asked me about her?"

"Yes," she said. "You said your relationship was intense but destructive."

"This is what I meant: our ability to peck holes in each other. If we were left to do so over time, how much would be left eventually? We would destroy each other without really meaning to. All that would be left is resentment and hatred."

He sounded so certain that Sabé wondered if he'd had a vision of the future. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to ask.

"I always mean to be more guarded," he went on. "I have the best of intentions, but…"

She swallowed the mouthful she was eating, and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. "You may be a Jedi, but you're also a man. You're entitled to your vulnerabilities. It's just that…maybe I have it wrong, but I assume the Jedi always expect you to move past them. They don't expect you not to have any at all."

"That's true, but I fear I'm failing miserably."

Sabé lowered her hand. _Do you still love her?_ she asked silently. She didn't dare say it aloud. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, however much closure it would provide.

He straightened up, sending her a small, insincere smile. "Anyway, it's my burden to bear. I just wanted to see that you were all right."

"I'm fine. Just worried about you."

"Don't be," he instructed, waving it off. "I know where my loyalty lies: with the Jedi. Now, get some sleep. We leave for Coruscant after breakfast."

"Thank you for the food," Sabé said.

"You're welcome." He got to his feet, heading for the door. His limp was barely noticeable. "See you in the morning," he threw back over his shoulder.

"Yes," she replied with a nod. "Good night."

He slipped out the door, and Sabé unfolded herself and crossed the room to set the lock. It was a rather cold, formal room, with the high ceiling customary of the rest of the palace. She was glad that the bed had a canopy above it.

Mulling the conversation over in her mind, she finished the rest of her roll, brushing the crumbs off the coverlet. She was proud of herself for her control, keeping her own sorrows within while she talked about Obi-Wan's. That was the way it should be from now on. She had to keep her feelings to herself, however difficult it got.

Hoping her overloaded brain would let her rest, Sabé climbed into bed, flicking her damp hair to one side. She practiced a few meditation breathing techniques as she lay there, and eventually she managed to drift into a calm sleep.

* * *

The ornate ship that would take them to Coruscant was called the _Coronet_. It would be accompanied by the Republic cruisers that had brought Anakin and his squadron of troopers, as well as Obi-Wan's two-seater fighter that needed to be flown back.

Breakfast had been a quiet affair. The duchess, once again in her blue and green formal gown, had talked softly with her aide, Tal Merrik, while Obi-Wan and Sabé discussed the idea of Padmé being an ally to Satine's cause. The two were very similarly minded, although Padmé was willing to resort to aggressive negotiations when necessary.

Prime Minister Almec accompanied them to the docks. He would be serving as regent while the duchess was away. As they walked, they talked of the recent developments concerning Death Watch.

"Although it is clear that they present a larger problem than we thought," Satine was saying, "I still believe that that problem is ours to deal with. _That_ is what I shall be reinforcing to the Senate."

Tal Merrik spoke up, "But if Pre Vizsla fled we have no way of learning how widespread Death Watch really is."

"It's obvious the Separatists are supporting the Death Watch," Obi-Wan put in.

"I disagree," Satine countered, turning to face him. "I told you I wanted to stay out of this conflict."

Obi-Wan glanced back at her, unruffled. "Given the current situation, I'm afraid that may no longer be possible."

Sabé suspected that that was _not_ what the duchess wanted to hear.

Sure enough, her expression turned openly antagonistic. "I thought you of all people would understand my position on this matter," she said vehemently. "I will _never_ be a part of this war."

With that, she stormed away, Merrik at her side. Almec sent Obi-Wan a sympathetic look before heading for the skiff that would take him back to the palace. Obi-Wan sighed heavily, his face brightening as he saw Anakin approaching.

His former Padawan was flanked by Captain Rex and Commander Cody, two officers making a name for themselves in the war.

"Reporting for escort duty, General," Anakin greeted cheerfully.

"It's very good to see you," Obi-Wan said, smiling.

"You too. Hi, Sabé."

Sabé nodded to him, sending him a smile of her own. "Hello, Anakin. How are you?"

"Tired, but not as tired as you two look," he answered, scrutinising them. "Has the investigation gone that badly?"

"Let's just say that Sabé and I managed to run into the less peaceful of Mandalore's citizens."

"With alarming regularity," Sabé added.

Anakin looked both amused and intrigued. "Well, now you get to sit through a boring trip back to Coruscant. At least someone will be happy."

"My only hope is that it _is_ a boring trip," Obi-Wan said, and they headed for the ship, ready to leave Mandalore behind.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry to Satine fans, but I had to have Sabé call them out on their childish bickering. It really annoys me!


	16. Betrayal on the Coronet

**A/N:** Again, any dialogue you recognise comes from Clone Wars, although I did change up quite a bit in this one. This chapter ended up super long too. You'd best make yourselves a drink.

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen – Betrayal on the** _ **Coronet**_ **.**

The _Coronet_ was an elaborate luxury cruiser, quite unlike any ship Sabé had travelled in before. Its corridors were gently curved, ornate bronze detailing spiralling across the ceiling in a wide arch. The floors were covered with patterned carpet, and the rooms reserved for important guests offered views of the scenery through huge windows of thick transparisteel. Granted, that scenery was often just the icy blur of hyperspace, but it had its own impressive beauty nonetheless. Serving droids ensured that no one's glass was ever empty, and an on-board band of musicians was available to make sure that the trip passed quickly, although Satine quickly decided to pass on that particular offer.

Sabé had parted ways with the Jedi once they were on board. Obi-Wan and Anakin had headed down to the cargo hold, where they could address their troops without drawing too much unnecessary attention. Sabé had joined Satine, where she would be acting as an additional bodyguard. Obi-Wan hadn't asked her to, but she knew she'd be the only one among the party of dignitaries that was armed and capable. Satine was sharing her journey with several senators, including one that Sabé was familiar with: Onaconda Farr, a Rodian friend of Padmé's.

She and Satine walked the corridors together, making their way to the suite of rooms set aside for the duchess's use. Tal Merrik, Satine's aide, had gone on ahead to check that everything was in order. The duchess was quiet, apparently still cross about the small altercation back at the docks. Sabé wasn't sure what to say to her anyway, so the silence was fine by her. Then the shrill beeping from her holo projector broke it.

"Sorry," she muttered, digging it out of the pouch on her belt.

Satine waved away her apology with a sweep of her hand.

Sabé pressed the activation switch and Gregar's small, blue figure materialised in her palm.

"Hello, stranger," he greeted.

"Gregar," she said, surprised. "I've only been gone for a day, don't tell me you've broken something already."

"How do you think we managed before you transferred to us?" he asked exasperatedly.

"I don't know, it's a mystery to me."

He grinned, then quickly sobered. "Are you alone?"

Sabé shot a quick glance sideways. "Duchess Satine is with me, but I trust her."

Gregar nodded, and she knew he understood what she meant. _Don't talk about Obi-Wan!_ She had shared her concerns about the secrets they were keeping from the duchess. Although she had felt guilty about alluding to Obi-Wan's past with her, she had needed another opinion, even though Gregar simply told her to see how things turned out.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back," he said. "There's been another hit. Another two, actually."

Sabé stopped walking, her stomach plummeting into her boots. "Another _two_?" she repeated in shock.

"Yes," Gregar confirmed grimly. "Last night, which means that suspect number one doesn't have a solid alibi."

The duchess had stopped too and was looking at her with an expression of concern.

"Do we know who?" Sabé asked.

"I don't have names, but I do know that they were bodyguards appointed by the Queen to watch over your parents."

"They...my...what? What are they even doing there?" Sabé exclaimed, trying to grasp the unexpected situation.

"They came for the gala," Gregar told her.

"That's not for another week!"

He shrugged. "Guess they wanted to make it a vacation. You'll have to ask them."

"Are they okay?"

"They're fine. Like before, it was just the security that was hit."

Sabé started walking again, her pace slow. The duchess kept level with her, a curious frown on her face.

"This is ridiculous," she stated. "What is the Jedi Council even doing?"

"I don't know," Gregar said sympathetically.

Sabé felt her anger flare. "When I get back, I'm going to go and find out."

"Just wait before you go in all guns blazing," he advised calmly. "Talk to Obi-Wan. He's in a better position to ask them."

She nodded reluctantly, seeing the sense in his words. She was fuming, but she didn't want to take it out on him. "Thank you for letting me know," she said after a pause. "And about my parents being on Coruscant. That's not a surprise I would have relished."

Gregar smiled. "You do amaze me." He glanced at something unseen over his shoulder. "I should go. Safe trip."

"Thanks. See you in a few hours." She pressed the button and his image faded. "Sorry about that," she said to Satine.

"Not at all. Is everything okay?"

"Not really," Sabé muttered candidly. As briefly as possible, she explained the situation, apologising for her subdued mood.

"As I must apologise for mine," the duchess replied. "Let's hope nothing else occurs to annoy us today."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Sabé said dryly.

"As will I."

They exchanged a look of mutual empathy, both managing a small smile. Turning another lazy corner of the ship's corridor, they reached a spacious lounge, where a dais covered in cushions awaited Satine. Everyone else, it seemed, had to stand. Nobody seemed to be complaining, however, the senators all conversing amiably, clutching glasses of whatever it was the droids were serving. Tal Merrik offered Satine a hand, which she accepted, holding her skirts up as she climbed the steps and took her seat. She beckoned to Sabé, who drifted closer.

"Pardon me for asking," the duchess began, "but when do you plan to speak to Obi-Wan about the…situation your friend spoke of?"

Sabé tried to hide her surprise at the question. "Oh…later, I'm sure. It's not important right now."

Satine slanted one immaculate eyebrow. "It isn't?"

"No, our priority is you," she said. "There's nothing we can do until we get back to Coruscant anyway. There'll be plenty of time for me to update Obi-Wan. Right now he's focused on you."

 _There's more truth in that than I intended,_ she reflected inwardly.

"Even still… I'll send for him. Then you can raise the topic if there's an opportunity."

"Oh…okay," Sabé accepted, still feeling that it was unnecessary. "Thank you, Duchess."

Satine summoned Merrik to her side. He approached, bowing deeply, managing to balance the wrapped cloth of his headdress as it threatened to slip off his head.

"Please inform Master Kenobi that his presence is requested."

Merrik nodded and stalked off to pass the order on to one of the guards.

 _Ah_ , Sabé thought, _maybe she just wants to get Obi-Wan up here and I'm giving her an excuse._ _Gods know, I won't complain. Having The Negotiator nearby while dealing with a bunch of senators is always..._ Her train of thought hit a wall as something suddenly occurred to her. _These are Republic senators. They will have heard about Obi-Wan and me. They may not recognise me now, but they'll put two and two together when he gets here._

Slightly alarmed, she turned to Satine. "Excuse me for a moment, Duchess." Without waiting for a reply, she walked briskly across the room and out the door, breaking into a little trotting run in the corridor outside. Obi-Wan and Anakin stepped out of the turbolift as she approached it, accompanied by Rex and Cody. Both looked at her with concern as she hurried up to them.

"Is everything all right?" Obi-Wan asked at once.

"Fine," she answered quickly, to put his mind at ease. "Well, sort of. The senators in there, they're Republic senators."

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged a bemused glance, the latter saying slowly, "Yes...yes, they are."

Exasperated, Sabé clarified, "Well, they _know_. About the arrangement between Obi-Wan and me. You know, the one that the duchess _does not know about_ but very clearly _soon will_?"

"Hmm," said Anakin, clearly grasping her point.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, still seemed unperturbed. "Why are you so worked up about this, Sabé?"

"Why aren't you?" she threw back at him. "You knew there was a possibility she would find out, do you really want it to happen in front of a room full of senators?"

For the first time, he looked uncertain. There was a pause as he considered. "Well," he said at length, "nothing for it. Let's go and make the best of it. It all may come to nothing." He sounded hopeful more than convinced.

Rex and Cody both looked at the floor. It said more of their opinions on the matter than if their faces could be seen. Anakin was openly sceptical, but resigned.

Together, the group walked back to the lounge, where they could hear Satine's impassioned words before the door had even opened.

"War is intolerable," she was saying. "We have been deceived into thinking that we must be a part of it. I say the moment we committed to fighting, we already lost."

"Er, we'll stay outside, sir," spoke up Rex, clearly feeling that the presence of soldiers would not improve the duchess's mood. "Keep an eye out."

"Very well," Obi-Wan acknowledged, looking a tad preoccupied.

The other three stepped forward to activate the door sensor and it slid open. They entered the room just in time to hear Merrik ask, "Excuse me, Your Grace, are you suggesting we oppose the war on humanitarian grounds?"

"I'm going to oppose it as an affront to life itself," Satine declared imperiously. "As the designated regent of fifteen hundred systems, I speak for thousands of worlds that urged me to allow them to stay neutral in this war."

"And yet some might argue that the strongest defence is a swift and decisive offence," Obi-Wan put in.

The duchess appraised him coolly. "You are quite the general now, aren't you, Master Kenobi?"

"Forgive me for interrupting, Duchess. I meant no disrespect."

"Really?" she said, amused. "Senators, I presume you are acquainted with the collection of half-truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

The senators all murmured affirmatives, some looking at Obi-Wan in a manner that suggested they had not heard him described that way before. Sabé thought it was a rather harsh description, but then she supposed she was biased.

"The duchess is too kind," Obi-Wan replied, his sarcasm subtle but there.

"You're right," Satine agreed. "I am."

Steering the topic in a different direction, he turned and gestured. "Allow me to introduce my fellow Jedi, Anakin Skywalker."

"Your servant, my lady," Anakin said graciously, bowing.

Satine nodded to him, then turned her attention to the serving droid who was refilling her glass. "I remember a time when Jedi were not generals, but peacekeepers."

"We are protectors, Duchess. Yours at the moment. We fight for peace."

She chucked. "What an amusing contradiction."

Obi-Wan attempted to smooth things over, although the duchess's frosty demeanour was not making it easy. "What Jedi Skywalker means is that we are acting to protect you from the Death Watch and the Separatists, who don't share your neutral point of view."

"I asked for no such thing," Satine snapped.

"That may be so," Obi-Wan gently amended, "but a majority of your court did."

Sabé noticed a few of the senators exchanging puzzled glances, and she shifted awkwardly. Neither Obi-Wan nor Satine seemed to care that they were well on the way to revealing their forbidden past with attitude alone.

"I do not remember you as one to hide behind excuses," Satine said sharply.

Quick as a flash, he retorted, "I do not remember you as one to shrink from responsibilities."

Unseen, Sabé rested her palm on his back, reminding him where they were. His posture immediately became less tense and she dropped her hand.

Meanwhile, the Twi'lek senator, Orn Free Taa, stepped between the duchess's dais and the group by the door, his plump blue hands raised in peaceful gesture. "I am certain we all agree," he said in accented Basic. "Duchess Satine and General Kenobi have proven that there are two sides to every dilemma."

"Indeed," agreed Tal Merrik. He had a rather unfortunate natural expression to his face that made him look as if he was permanently sneering.

"Now," Taa continued, "in regard to the Senate vote, we think–"

"I think a multitude makes discord, not good council," Satine interrupted him.

If he was annoyed by her rudeness, he was too much a diplomat to show it. "Right again, my lady."

"There may be two sides to every dilemma," Obi-Wan said in an undertone, "but the duchess only favours hers."

Anakin nodded his concurrence, but he seemed entertained by the whole exchange.

"Master Kenobi," spoke up Senator Kin Robb of Taris, her voice welcomingly calm, "would you not agree that the Separatists are simply not open to the idea of systems remaining neutral in this war?"

"I would," he said. "I wish it were otherwise, but unfortunately a Republic military presence is the only sure defence against the Separatists."

"Even extremists can be reasoned with," Satine snapped exasperatedly, getting to her feet.

"No," Obi-Wan countered, his tone still gentle, "they can't. That's why we call them extremists."

The duchess stared at him, eyes narrowed, as if his composed conduct had thrown her. Perhaps it had. After all, he usually argued back.

"I believe Master Kenobi has hit the nail on the head," Onaconda Farr put in.

"Really?" asked the duchess. "How so?"

"Well, Count Dooku and his ilk are extremists, as you said. They're not like rational people, so therefore they cannot be reasoned with."

"Perhaps that is because we do not treat them like rational people," Satine fired back. "If we did, we might find that they _are_ open to negotiation."

"If the chance for negotiation had ever been an option, the Jedi would have taken it," Anakin said frowning. "The Separatists took violent action against a Republic senator before the war even started, then tried to have Obi-Wan killed."

The duchess's gaze moved to Obi-Wan, seeming to challenge him to comment. Sabé hoped he wouldn't take the bait. There was little point in adding to a discussion that was going nowhere.

"I had heard that you were involved at the start of all this," Satine said, taciturn.

"I was following the orders of the Jedi Council," Obi-Wan informed her placidly, "as always."

"Oh, not always, Master Kenobi," Merrik spoke up with a harsh bark of laughter.

Sabé clenched fistfuls of skirt, dreading his next words. She knew what was coming. From his sudden tenseness, she could tell that Obi-Wan knew it too.

Merrik wore the barest trace of a smirk as he went on. "What about when you married Lady Sabé?"

"What about it?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to break the onset of tension in the room. The senators looked between him and Satine, perhaps expecting some kind of explosion.

The duchess hadn't moved. She seemed carved from ice, her expression fixed so rigidly she was almost trembling.

"Well, you weren't following the orders of the Council then," said Merrik, who seemed to be trying to hide how much enjoyment he was getting from stirring trouble. He wasn't having much success. "In fact, the Coruscanti HoloNet reports that you were reprimanded, yet a Jedi you remain. What is going on in that Temple of yours? Are you sure it's really the war you ought to be focusing on?"

"I was reprimanded for going against the Council," Obi-Wan explained calmly. "Once the situation was explained, they agreed to let it stand. But if you've seen the HoloNet reports, then you already know all this."

"Not all of us know it. In fact, I had to go digging."

"I'm surprised you had time in your busy schedule to do such a thing," Obi-Wan said, nonchalant. "Especially considering that it isn't relevant to my visit to Mandalore."

Merrik folded his arms, looking dubious. "Oh, I think it's very relevant when a Jedi who claims to be seeking the truth of one matter keeps secrets about another."

"It's not a secret. You said yourself you found the story on the HoloNet."

Sabé tried not to smile at Merrik's look of annoyance. Clearly, he was just a spiteful little man who was having some fun at the expense of them all. She couldn't tell if it was on the duchess's behalf, although it seemed evident that he guessed something of her past with Obi-Wan.

"And," said Satine, her voice blank and cold, "what is so important it makes a Jedi turn his back on his Code?"

"He hasn't violated the Code," Sabé spoke up, not happy with the accusatory remarks thrown at Obi-Wan's feet. "Our marriage was a means of keeping me out of an arranged marriage that I believe would have posed a serious risk to my safety. When we explained it to the Jedi Council, they happened to agree, although they did not approve of our methods."

The duchess took in the information with a severe expression, her countenance more than a little hostile. Hidden deep in her pale blue eyes, a spark of hurt lingered.

"Duchess, Master Jedi, Lady Sabé," Merrik interjected, "it's been a long trip. I think we could all use a little rest and refreshment."

Sabé shot him a stony look, not liking his devious way of conducting himself.

"Hear, hear," said Orn Free Taa, the relief at the break in tension evident in his voice. "Now, let us put politics and marriages aside until after dinner."

"Fine," Satine declared, although it was obvious from her demeanour that the topic was not permanently dropped. She stalked down the steps of her dais, hands clasped behind her back, and marched out the door, causing Sabé, Obi-Wan and Anakin to dance out of her way. As she passed, Sabé saw that her hands were clenched so tightly, her fingers had turned ivory.

The other dignitaries all trailed out after her, talking quietly amongst themselves. The remaining three joined Cody and Rex in the corridor.

"Everything all right, sir?" Cody asked,

"Splendid," Obi-Wan replied sardonically.

"Why don't you two go and check that the duchess has enough guards outside the dining room," Anakin said. "Then maybe see what's going on downstairs."

The troopers nodded, heading down the corridor after the party of politicians. Sabé watched them go, a frown creasing her brow. She knew she should stay with the duchess, but she didn't know how welcome she would be now.

"I'd better go too," she muttered reluctantly.

"All right," Obi-Wan said with a nod. "I'll be there shortly."

Understanding that he needed a moment, Sabé returned his nod, sending him a brief smile. Taking a deep breath, she walked away towards the dining room.

* * *

Obi-Wan watched Sabé make her way down the corridor, her posture as rigid as if she were walking into battle. Perhaps, in a way, she was. He'd sensed a vague ambience of deception ever since he'd stepped on board, and had been waiting to see if it developed into something more solid. Maybe it was centring on Merrik's little game.

He and Anakin headed the other way, towards the quarters that had been set aside for their use.

"You and Satine have a history," Anakin stated as they went.

Obi-Wan was not surprised by the remark. It had been made more obvious than he would like. Satine was so open with her emotions, she made him unguarded too.

"An extended mission when I was younger," he said. "Master Qui-Gon and I spent a year on Mandalore, protecting the duchess from insurgents who had threatened her world."

They entered the turbolift, pressing the button for the floor below.

"They sent bounty hunters after us," he went on, remembering. "We were always on the run, living hand to mouth, never sure what the next day would bring."

Anakin smiled to himself. "Sounds romantic."

Obi-Wan sent him an exasperated look. "In a holo-novel perhaps. In real life, it's a gruelling way to live."

"So, what happened?" Anakin pestered as they exited the lift.

"A civil war killed most of Satine's people, hence her aversion to violence. When she returned, she took on the difficult task of rebuilding her world alone."

Anakin seemed surprised. "You didn't stay to help her?"

"That would have been problematic," Obi-Wan said, feeling the weight of the statement and the memories it invoked. He entered his quarters, moving a chair with a sweep of his hand. Sitting heavily, he added, "My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere."

Anakin leaned against the doorframe, frowning. "Demanded? But…it's obvious you had feelings for her, surely that would affect your decision?"

Well aware that Anakin struggled to grasp the concept of putting duty first, Obi-Wan muttered, "Oh, it did. But I live by the Jedi Code."

"Of course," Anakin said, rolling his eyes. "As Master Yoda says: A Jedi must not form attachments."

"Yes," he agreed, "but he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse." Exactly what the remorse pertained to, Obi-Wan wasn't as sure as he'd once been. The beeping of his comlink interrupted his train of thought before it really got going. "Yes, Captain?"

"General, something's wrong with Skywalker's astromech," came Rex's voice. "Scared him real good, sir. I've also lost contact with two of my men."

"I'm on my way down to assist you," he declared, getting to his feet.

"I'll go, Master," Anakin said, holding up a hand, his old habits of address coming back to him. "If there's something dangerous down there, the clones and I can handle it." With a congenial smile, he left the room.

Obi-Wan sat back down, resting his chin in his hand. He'd spent a fair amount of time assessing his own feelings the previous evening. For seventeen years, part of him had never stopped wondering what his life would have been like if he had stayed with Satine. Despite the reasoning that had prompted his departure, he'd wondered. He'd mourned that life that he would never have. How strange and ironic that being reunited with her had been the catalyst to ending that dream.

She was as beautiful as ever, of course, but time and distance had painted her in rosy hues in his memory. It had been a sharp awakening for him to be reminded just how sensitive and argumentative she was, how stubborn and haughty, how judgemental and naïve. All things he'd known before, but had somehow forgotten as he remembered only the good times.

Before arriving, part of him had relished the thought of being in her company again. As he spent more time with her, he found himself missing Sabé's quiet ways and sharp humour, despite the fact that the woman herself had been right there with him. But it was not the same as their companionable evenings together in the apartment.

 _This is dangerous thinking, Kenobi_ , he told himself sternly. _When will you learn?_

Sabé was a good friend, perhaps the best friend he had after Anakin. She'd given him reassurance the previous night, despite the fact that something was clearly bothering her, something she didn't want to share.

And Satine? He wasn't sure _what_ Satine was to him. Someone he cared about, yes. He always would. But perhaps time, the great healer, had finally healed.

With a sigh, he stood up, heading for the door. He'd had his five minutes of peace, although his head felt no clearer for it. It was time to enter the fray once more.

The dining room, like the lounge, offered its occupants a panoramic view of their journey through hyperspace. It was a spacious room, the table directly in the middle, with booths either side for more private diners. As Obi-Wan entered, he saw that it was a hive of activity, with small droids circling the table carrying serving dishes. Satine sat at the head of the table, her back to the window, a protocol droid hovering nervously behind her. To her right sat Tal Merrik and Orn Free Taa, to her left, Kin Robb and Onaconda Farr. Sabé stood off to one side looking a little agitated, and like she was hiding much more agitation than she was showing.

"I beg your pardon, senators," he said as he entered. "Our men are investigating a situation below decks. I respectfully ask you to wait here until it is settled."

All eyes turned to regard him with curiosity, but he chose not to elaborate. Eventually they went back to their food, with the exception of Satine, who did not seem to be eating. Aware of her gaze boring holes in him, he approached Sabé.

"Everything all right in here?" he asked her, keeping his voice low.

She nodded, although she still seemed ill at ease. "It's fine, I just…didn't think I could really sit at the table." She gave a half shrug, looking uncomfortable and a touch embarrassed. "I'm not hungry anyway. What's going on below?"

"I'm not sure yet," he told her. "I'm waiting for Anakin to report."

Sabé nodded again, her gaze carefully avoiding the table and the livid woman sitting at its head. "I feel _so_ awkward," she whispered, so softly that he had to lip read her words.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, knowing that he should have trusted her instinct on the matter. He'd been too confident about his own ability to handle the situation.

She looked as if she were about to protest, but his comlink chimed, cutting all conversation short.

"Excuse me," he said to the senators, turning away from them. "Anakin, what have you found?" he asked quietly.

"There's a large open container and the contents are missing," came Anakin's faint voice. "And I still have two men unaccounted for."

"That's not good," he muttered. "Keep things quiet, I'll stay with the senators."

"Got it." He signed off.

Obi-Wan met Sabé's gaze. Her expression was grim. "What weapons are you carrying?" he asked.

"Blaster and vibroblade," she answered at once. "Though I don't like not knowing what we're dealing with."

"Nor me." He slipped off his robe, draping over a nearby chair. He had a feeling he was going to need more freedom of movement. "No doubt we'll find out soon enough."

"Oh, no doubt."

He turned to survey the room, just catching sight of Satine tilting her head away. She'd been watching them. He felt a pang of guilt at the pain she was clearly feeling. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

He approached the guards by the door, telling them softly, "Be on the alert."

They both bowed their heads, tightening their grips on the staffs they wielded.

Another shrill bleep from his comlink once again broke the atmosphere of the room.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin's voice filtered through. "There's assassin probes down here! One made it up the lift. I'll try to hold the others here."

"Quickly!" Obi-Wan barked at the guards. "Secure the lifts." He ignited his lightsaber, feeling it hum in his hand.

The guards ran to the door, but the droid reached it first, forcing its way in. It was a bizarre-looking spidery thing, almost as tall as Obi-Wan, covered in sinister red lights. It made harsh mechanical chirps as it moved. It knocked him aside before he could swing his blade, sending the two guards into the wall, where they collapsed in an unconscious heap.

The senators all backed away, looking various levels of frightened and shocked. Sabé moved towards them, firing shots at the droid. It dodged so fast that she barely made a hit.

"Help!" blustered Orn Free Taa.

The droid jumped up onto the table, advancing on the group. Sabé stood before them, brandishing her blaster, able to get off a couple of shots in the mere seconds the droid took to cross the table. Obi-Wan leapt up, extending his jump with the Force and landing on top of the droid. With a wide stroke, he cut off its legs, hopping down to stab it directly through the main scarlet 'eye' on its front. Finally, it was still.

For a brief moment, at least. As they looked on with horrified eyes, it fell heavily off the table and dozens of miniature versions of the droid popped up from the holes in its back, swarming across the floor like insects. Orn Free Taa let out a scream and ran, dropping the joint of meat he'd been carrying.

The others all backed away even further, but the droids were relentless. Sabé and Obi-Wan, the trained warriors, were the first to move, shooting and cutting their way through the tide.

"What happens if they get to us?" Sabé yelled.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan replied, "and I have no wish to find out."

Together, they clustered around the duchess, constantly circling as the droids moved. To Obi-Wan's surprise, Satine started blasting at them too, a tiny deactivator clutched in her hand.

"Did you always carry a deactivator?" he asked her incredulously.

"Just because I'm a pacifist doesn't mean I won't defend myself," she shot back icily.

A droid ran over the toe of Sabé's boot and she kicked it away, skirt hindering her aim. Obi-Wan sliced it as it flew, cutting it neatly in two halves. The three of them circled again, Satine zapping what looked like the last droid.

Silence fell and everyone took a collective sigh of relief. Miraculously, no one had been hurt. Sabé holstered her blaster, bending down to pick up one of the droids. Obi-Wan did likewise, examining it, trying to recall what it reminded him of. Then it hit him.

"Just like that swarm of venom-mites on Draboon, remember?" he said to Satine, offering her a small smile that was part apology.

She looked at him sternly, then her face softened a touch. "How could I forget? I still have the scar."

Obi-Wan frowned as the memory echoed through his mind. "Begging your pardon, Duchess, I distinctly remember carrying you to safety."

Satine wore an enigmatic smile as she turned and met his gaze. "I meant the scar I got after you fell and dropped me."

"Oh…" he said, realising that she was right, "yes."

Nearby, Sabé gave a quiet chuckle, raising her eyebrows in challenge. "Not very chivalrous, Kenobi," she said. The brightness of her tone, although genuine, seemed a little forced, and he recognised that she too was trying to make peace in her own way, supporting Satine's mild criticism of him.

"It is a learned skill that takes practice," he replied, dropping the droid. "I do hope Anakin hasn't run into any of these."

"He can handle it if he has," Sabé said sagely.

"True, although I'd like to make sure."

The little droids that had been serving the food began running around tidying up the mess that the assassin had made of the tableware.

Obi-Wan raised his comlink. "Anakin, do you copy?"

"I'm just on my way up to you," his former Padawan said. "I've found something you're going to want to see."

Within a few moments, he appeared in the doorway. Obi-Wan went to meet him, out of earshot of the senators. Anakin handed him the cargo manifest, jabbing a finger to indicate the point of interest.

"One of our four distinguished senators appears to be a traitor," Anakin declared.

Obi-Wan surveyed the manifest, seeing the Senate stamp that authorised the crates the assassin droids had been shipped in.

"I sense it too," he muttered. He had an idea he knew who, but he needed proof. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted one of the tiny droids scurrying away from the table, where it had clearly been hiding. "It looks like one of our little visitors is still alive. I have an idea how to expose the turncoat." He handed the cargo manifest back to Anakin. "Return to the hull of the ship," he ordered. "Destroy the last assassin droids. I'll find out which of the senators is the traitor."

Anakin nodded and left. Obi-Wan flung out a hand, pulling the droid towards him with the Force. He caught it neatly, gripping the main body while its legs wiggled furiously.

"And what are you planning on doing with that?" Sabé asked him, one eyebrow raised.

"You'll see," he told her. "I'll be back in a moment. Make sure nobody leaves this room."

"Okay," she agreed, not questioning him, for which he was thankful. She always trusted that he knew what he was doing.

He made a quick trip to the kitchens, putting the droid on a tray, a domed transparisteel dessert lid preventing it from escaping. He draped a cloth over it and made his way back upstairs. The team of host droids had managed to clear up the assassin droid corpses and set the table to rights, even going so far as to pile the dishes with more food to make up for what had ended up on the floor. The party was seated at the table once again, but only Orn Free Taa was eating.

Taa's eyes lit up when he saw what Obi-Wan was carrying. "Ah, dessert! Excellent!"

Sabé watched his progress appraisingly, no doubt having guessed what he was up to.

"This morsel might prove too much, even for the legendary appetite of Orn Free Taa," Obi-Wan speculated, removing the cloth. "Enjoy."

The droid tried to lunge for the Twi'lek senator, hitting itself against the glass repeatedly.

Taa gasped. "On second thought, it wouldn't agree with me."

"My theory is that our little friend will attack the duchess and anyone who defends her," Obi-Wan explained. "Anyone, that is, except the traitor who programmed it."

Taa cowered, whimpering. "Take it away! Please!"

"Obi-Wan!" Satine bit out, her voice sharp as a whip crack. "This line of questioning borders on torture!"

He thought that was a slight exaggeration. "Oh, I assure our pacifist duchess that all is under control," he soothed, circling the table, around Onaconda Farr. "I'm trying to expose a bigger threat."

Farr looked nervous, but said nothing, even as the droid tried to get to him from within its prison. Obi-Wan moved to Kin Robb, who sat beside him, unsurprised when the droid reacted in the same way.

"Interesting," he mused aloud. "The droid displays unusual hostility towards the honourable Kin Robb." Finally, he passed behind Satine to stand in front of Merrik. The droid stopped thrashing and stood still. "But it seems to like you, Senator Merrik."

Merrik scoffed and looked away. "Really, General Kenobi," he began, as if it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. Then, quick as a flash, he lunged, knocking the dish out of Obi-Wan's hands. "You're quite clever!"

The mini assassin flew in a wide arc, landing on the table. At once, it darted for Satine, who gasped and stumbled back out of her seat. Obi-Wan knocked it aside with the tray, and it landed on the protocol droid nearby. The droid went down with a heavy clang as the assassin dug its legs into its casing. Then, it jumped back onto the table before leaping towards Onaconda Farr. Sabé shot it out of the air before it could land, and it hit the carpet, smoking gently.

In the confusion, Merrik made a grab for Satine, sending her ornate headdress tumbling off. He held a blaster to her head as she clutched at the arm he'd thrown around her neck. Sabé aimed her blaster, but hesitated. Merrik was standing too close to the duchess for her to get a clear shot.

"You're coming with me," Merrik announced, dragging her backwards out of the room.

Nobody dared move until he was out of sight, then Obi-Wan shot into action, sprinting after them, Sabé at his heels.

"You should stay here," he yelled over his shoulder.

"Not a chance," she replied firmly.

Not wishing to waste time arguing with her, he raised his comlink. "Anakin, Tal Merrik is the traitor and he's taken Satine hostage."

"Copy that," Anakin answered with gritted teeth, sounding stressed, "but I've got problems of my own right now."

Realising he was in the middle of a stealthy pursuit of some kind, Obi-Wan cut the channel. Better Anakin give his foe his full attention.

"He won't hurt her," Sabé called to him, "he needs her alive or he has no leverage."

"I know."

He ground to a halt, Sabé just managing to stop herself before she ploughed into the back of him.

"Does he want to hide or take control?" he pondered.

Sabé considered the question. "The fact that he's taken the duchess indicates that he doesn't feel he has control yet," she theorised.

Obi-Wan nodded, hearing the sense in her words. "So that's what he wants. So he'll head for the bridge. He can signal to his allies from there."

She shrugged. "I would."

"The question is, where is it?"

"I have no idea." She bit her lip, looking grim. "But I promise you, I'll help you save the woman you love."

He studied her, a slight frown on his face. "She's not... I mean, there has been..." He trailed off with a sigh. "Oh, it will keep. Let's go."

There was a brief moment in which he took in her confused expression, then they took off running again, winding their way through the corridors. Eventually, they stumbled upon Anakin approaching from the opposite side.

"Did you find them?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, but I've stationed troopers at every escape pod."

"Good thinking," he praised. "We believe he'll make his way to the bridge, we have to find him."

"This way," Anakin said, heading off towards the turbolift.

They all piled inside and the doors closed.

"This may not be the time to ask," ventured Anakin, "but were you and Satine ever…"

"I don't see how that has any bearing on the situation at hand," Obi-Wan growled.

There came a jerk as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, and they exchanged concerned glances.

"That can't be good," Sabé commented.

The ship juddered again, making them all stumble.

"That's something hitting the hull," Obi-Wan said grimly.

The elevator stopped, the doors sliding open, revealing a corridor full of clone troopers, all of them running towards the noise.

"What's going on?" Anakin asked them.

"Hull breach, sir," one of them called. "There are battle droids aboard."

"Well there's a confirmation we didn't need," Obi-Wan remarked, feeling no satisfaction that his theory about Death Watch's support was correct.

"I'll take care of this, Obi-Wan," Anakin declared, pulling his lightsaber. "You go and find your girlfriend." He dashed after the clones.

"No, Anakin, she's not my…" But his friend had already disappeared. Obi-Wan sighed, turning away in time to catch Sabé's smirk. "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," she amended.

Recognising where they were, Obi-Wan led them down the corridor, lightsaber ignited, finally bursting through the door to the bridge. The crew were dead, their bodies strewn across their work stations. Merrik was there, his expression looking particularly supercilious.

"Come in, Kenobi, you're expected."

Sabé stepped in beside him, blaster levelled at Merrik's head, although she didn't dare attempt to shoot.

"Oh," Merrik added, sneering at her, "two Kenobis for the price of one. Or do you not count under this arrangement of yours?"

"Tal Merrik, you are under arrest," Obi-Wan stated firmly, ignoring him. "Release the duchess."

Merrik looked unimpressed. "Hmm. I took the precaution of wiring the ship's engines to explode. I press this remote and we all die." He showed them the small switch he was holding.

"Obi," Satine spoke out, the fear evident in her voice, "if you have any respect for me, you will not take such risks with so many people's lives at stake."

"Satine. Don't." There was a way to get through this with no casualties. There was always a way.

Merrik manoeuvred her to the door, and Obi-Wan and Sabé had no choice but to let him pass, mindful of the remote in his hand. He stalked backwards through the corridors as they followed, weapons drawn but useless.

"This is Merrik," he said into his comlink. "Stand by to disengage." He stopped next to one of the devices that had pierced the hull and let the battle droids on board, unable to go any further while he still held Satine. "Say farewell, Duchess."

Satine's face was an open book of emotions. Disgust, fear, embarrassment, desperation. She managed to school it into an expression of determination. "Obi-Wan, it looks like I may never see you again," she began, her voice shaking and slightly awkward. "I don't know quite how to say this, but…I've loved you from the moment you came to my aid all those years ago."

"I don't believe this," Merrik muttered, looking repulsed.

Obi-Wan almost couldn't believe it himself. For her to speak so unguardedly in front of others, she must truly fear for her life. "Satine, this is hardly the time or place for–"

She looked so stricken that his words trailed off. _She needs reassurance_ , he realised. _But I can't lie to her and tell her more than I feel._

"All right," he muttered, almost to himself.

Beside him, Sabé suddenly stiffened, although he had no time to dwell on it. Satine was still staring pleadingly at him.

 _Tell her something, anything_. He selected a long-ago truth, one that she had never known. "Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order."

In his peripheral vision, he saw Sabé send him a puzzled look. Perhaps she had been expecting him to say something more demonstrative. Satine's expression was too brief to read, turning to a glare at Merrik's next words.

"That is touching," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Truly it is. But it's making me sick, and we really must be going."

"You have the romantic soul of a slug, Merrik!" Satine cried out.

In a burst of movement, she jabbed her heel into his foot, whirled away and stole his blaster, aiming it with trembling hands.

"And slugs are so often trod upon," she spat.

Merrik seemed almost amused. "Interesting turnabout. But even if I do not deliver the duchess alive to the Separatists I still win. The second I'm away I'll hit the remote and blow the _Coronet_ to bits."

"I will not allow that," Satine declared.

"What will you do?" Merrik asked her mockingly. "If you shoot me, you prove yourself a hypocrite to every pacifist ideal you hold dear. And you, Kenobi, you are no stranger to violence. You'd be hailed as a hero by everyone on this ship." He sent a sly glance the duchess's way. "Almost everyone. Come on then. Who will strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?"

"You forget, _I_ have no such problem," Sabé said, her blaster levelled at his chest. "Give me the remote."

"If you really wanted it, you'd have fired by now," Merrik said lazily.

"Oh, I have no qualms about ending one life to save many, especially yours," Sabé told him casually, "but I was always taught to give fair warning."

"Then let me give _you_ fair warning," he jeered. "You have about three seconds to make your choice before I, and this remote, are gone."

Merrik jerked as a bright blue blade appeared through his chest. He dropped the remote and Anakin swiftly caught it.

Satine threw the blaster aside in disgust.

Obi-Wan looked at his former Padawan and gave a heavy sigh. "Anakin…"

"What? He was going to blow up the ship."

The worst part was, he was right. So was Sabé. One life to save many was the right solution here, and yet he'd hesitated. Solemn, he powered off his lightsaber, returning it to his belt.

 _How much did Anakin hear?_ he wondered.

Sabé holstered her blaster, sending him an unreadable glance, then turned away as Satine approached him. He could not help feeling tense as he looked at her, taking in the earnest expression on her porcelain face.

"Obi-Wan," she breathed, eyes wide and hopeful, "I…"

"General Skywalker," said Cody, marching up to Anakin, "the last of the droids have been defeated, sir."

"Very good, Cody."

The duchess seemed to find herself dragged back to reality by the arrival of the clones. Her walls shot up, her face suddenly closed off. "I must get back to the business of diplomacy," she announced, turning her back on him and walking away, ducking under the wreckage that was blocking half the corridor.

"As you say, Duchess," he muttered, bowing even though she could not see it.

"Cody," said Anakin, "do we have any troopers who can help me fly this ship?"

"I'm sure we can find some, sir. I'll speak to Captain Rex and send you some men." Cody walked off, his fellow soldiers by his side.

" _You're_ going to fly the ship back to Coruscant?" Obi-Wan asked his friend, amused.

"Sure," Anakin confirmed, shrugging. "I'm the best pilot we have on board."

Obi-Wan conceded the point. "You're probably right."

"I'll get on it now. You'd better make sure the senators are okay."

"Yes," he agreed. "Sabé and I will head back there now. See you later."

They parted ways, he and Sabé trailing after the duchess. He noted how quiet she was, pondering the reasons why. But then she spoke up.

"So…Obi?" There was no mockery in her voice, simply curiosity.

He nodded. "Mm. She always did call me that. I was never sure how I felt about it."

Sabé made a small, thoughtful sound. "Back there… You…didn't tell her… I mean, you never…"

"No, I didn't," he said softly.

She didn't ask why, as if she was picking up on how tired he suddenly felt, how much he didn't want to have that conversation. He didn't want to think about what the next few days might bring. He reached out for the Force, feeling it flow through him, soothing his worries, bringing him confidence in his own judgement. Whatever they brought, he'd get through it.

* * *

 **A/N:** I was going to have Sabé dispatch Merrik, but then I realised I couldn't deprive Anakin of one of his most memorable lines!


	17. A Fight For Neutrality

**A/N:** Once more, some dialogue was taken from Clone Wars, although I think I tweaked things here and there. I can't remember. It's been a while since I wrote this chapter initially.

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen – A Fight for Neutrality.**

There was quite a welcome party for the passengers of the _Coronet_ once they reached Coruscant. Chancellor Palpatine was there to greet his senators, able to find time to throw a word of praise to Anakin for his skilful piloting of the ship. Padmé, too, was waiting, there to welcome Sabé, Obi-Wan and Anakin, and to offer an invitation of dinner to Duchess Satine. This, Satine received with glad surprise, accepting with a tired smile and a few intrigued, surreptitious glances between Padmé and Sabé, no doubt noting their resemblance. Padmé extended the invitation to the others, but Obi-Wan refused on grounds of needing to speak to the Jedi Council, which led to Anakin also feeling obliged to refuse, although he did not look happy about it.

Sabé was off duty until the following day, and she was looking forward to a quiet evening at the apartment. She spent most of it deep in thought, reliving everything that had happened over the past two days, trying to figure out what was going on with Obi-Wan, who had not reacted as she'd expected during Satine's kidnapping on the ship. She didn't speak of any of it when he got back from the Temple. There would be time for that when the trouble was over. Instead, they talked about the latest two Order of Sanctuary deaths, a matter that there had been no time to bring up earlier in the day. Obi-Wan agreed to push the Council for more decisive action, a solution that Sabé was forced to be content with.

In the morning, they headed over to Padmé's apartment, where the senator was preparing to attend the session that Satine would be speaking at. As she helped Padmé with her hair, Sabé asked her how dinner had gone. Padmé was keen to befriend Satine, having been made aware of their similar outlooks, not to mention the fact that the duchess seemed to need friends on Coruscant. Padmé reported that it had gone well, seeming pleased to have laid the foundations of a genuine friendship with a kindred spirit.

When Padmé was ready, garbed in formal dark blue robes and a basket-like headdress, her retinue departed for the Senate. Obi-Wan remained discreetly behind the Naboo pod, but Gregar took a seat to Padmé's left, leaving the right-hand bench for Sabé and Moteé, both swathed in purple velvet cloaks, their hoods covering their hair.

After the usual greetings and updates, Chancellor Palpatine brought up the topic of Mandalore.

"As you are no doubt aware," he was saying, his voice echoing around the huge arena, "Mandalore is one of many systems that have chosen to remain neutral in the war. We have respected that decision. We respect it still. However, it seems that Mandalore's peace is now threatened by a terrorist movement called Death Watch." He paused, seemingly to let the statement sink in and have the most impact. "Up until now, we have trusted Mandalore's authorities to deal with this dangerous group, but just last week a Death Watch warrior sabotaged a Republic vessel."

An angry murmur rippled around the room and Palpatine nodded in accordance.

"This isn't off to the best start," Sabé hissed to Moteé, who murmured her agreement.

"That was an isolated incident designed to attract this sort of attention," Duchess Satine spoke up, moving her pod towards the centre.

"The chair recognises Duchess Satine of Mandalore," announced Mas Amedda, Chancellor Palpatine's Chagrian aide.

"I respectfully ask how you know it was an isolated incident," Palpatine said, his voice conveying the respect he mentioned but a steely edge too. "It grieves me to say it," he went on, "but Death Watch is now a significant, deadly threat.

"Mandalore is making great strides to find the leaders of this terrorist movement," Satine assured him. "They are not powerful enough to destabilise our government. We _will_ resolve this without conflict. If the Republic gets involved in our affairs, it will only lead to further violence. Thus I shall reassert our position of neutrality."

"Talk of an idealist," Mas Amedda put in lazily.

Satine shook her head. "No, those are the words of a pacifist and a people who have chosen non-violent action."

"She's not going to persuade them," Padmé whispered to Gregar, her voice saddened.

Sabé threw a look back at Obi-Wan, who was standing with his chin in his hand, a frown marring his brow.

"That may be so, Duchess" Palpatine was saying, "however, this message was delivered to my staff just this morning. I think you shall find it most illuminating."

Mas Amedda inserted a chip into the holo reader and immediately a huge hologram materialised in the centre of the arena. Additional smaller versions hovered over the control panel of every pod.

"The actions of our government have taken us into a period of civil war," the man in the recording said. "To acknowledge it would be to invite panic in the streets, and so we hid the truth from our people."

"She looks distressed," Padmé murmured, watching Satine. She stood up and flew the Naboo pod down to hover next to the duchess's.

"Duchess, do you know this man?" she called over.

"Yes," Satine replied, her face showing confusion and hurt. "Deputy Minister Jerec. He's a dear friend."

"It is more than mere possibility," the recording boomed, "more than eventuality. It is here."

"Stop!" Satine yelled, and Amedda paused the hologram. "Deputy Minister Jerec is an honourable man. He would never commit such lies to the record. The Mandalorian government holds no secrets from its people."

"If only that were true," Chancellor Palpatine sighed.

The recording started up again. "Death Watch is far stronger than we once thought. If we are to combat them effectively, we must have Republic assistance. Instead, this government acts out of pride and refuses the help of the Jedi."

"It's not true," Satine cried. "It's not true!"

Sabé felt a pang of sympathy for her. She seemed just as shocked as the rest of them.

"The Duchess Satine will ultimately cause our defeat," Jerec declared. "Make no mistake, Republic intervention is absolutely necessary." The recording ended, his image disappearing.

"This isn't right," the duchess protested. "Something here isn't right. I wish to speak to Jerec immediately."

"Sadly, Deputy Minister Jerec perished this morning in a Death Watch bombing on Kalevala," Palpatine reported. "Let us ensure that his death was not in vain. Let us commit our military might into defending the Mandalorian people."

Clearly fuelled by grief and anger, Satine spat out, "Defending? You mean to occupy our home! You would trample our right to self-determination."

"We mean to save your people."

"You will turn our planet into a military target, which will bring the war to us. Mandalore _must_ remain a neutral system," Satine stressed.

Sabé was no politician, but it didn't look to her as if the duchess's passionate words were having the slightest effect.

"The vote shall commence in the next session," Chancellor Palpatine decided.

Satine flew her pod back to its spot so fast, Sabé was afraid it might crash. Padmé returned the Naboo pod, and the group filed out.

"Will you be all right for a short while?" Obi-Wan said to Sabé.

Reading his expression, she nodded. "Go and talk to her. I'll be fine."

He gave her a grateful smile, then hurried away to catch Satine up. The rest of them made their way along the corridor at a more leisurely pace, joining the throng of exiting senators. Padmé struck up conversation with Mon Mothma, and Gregar dropped back a step to give them privacy, walking beside Sabé.

"How's things?" he asked.

Sabé shrugged. "Same old. You?"

"Yep, same." There was a pause, then he added, "Was I any more convincing than you?"

"Nope."

"Figured."

They exchanged smiles.

"Have you seen your parents yet?" Gregar queried.

"No. I was too exhausted last night after we got back. Also…" She left the sentence hanging. She hadn't seen her parents since she'd gone to them to tell them that she and Obi-Wan were married. She'd seen Idriel once, to congratulate her on the birth of her son, Corin, but had steered clear of Jago and Luma's apartment.

Gregar nodded understandingly. "I know. But you can't avoid them forever."

Sabé pouted. "That's what Obi-Wan says."

"Speaking of Obi-Wan," he began.

"You're going to ask about the duchess," Sabé surmised. "I promise you this isn't personal, Gregar, but I'm just too tired to go into all of that right now."

He looked surprised, but accepted it placidly. "Okay. Guess it's a bigger question than I thought."

"Yes. And everything right now is about the duchess," she huffed, a little bitterly. "We've barely had time to talk about the latest Order hits."

"You will," he assured her confidently. "Obi-Wan isn't the kind of man to ignore things. You know that."

Sabé thought about where he was right now, nearly laughing. "Oh, I know it."

Ahead, Padmé parted ways with Mon Mothma, leading her party to the spacious office she was assigned. It was where she did the bulk of her work when she was not at the apartment. See-Threepio was waiting there, and Padmé sent him to order lunch for them all. Sabé and Moteé busied themselves with tidying Padmé's desk, making sure she'd have space to eat. Gregar stood outside the door, reaching for his comlink to check in with the officers he'd posted outside the building.

Presently, Obi-Wan joined them, looking rather stern. Clearly the conversation with Satine had gone as well as the others. Threepio arrived back, wheeling a stack of trays with covered dishes. The group settled into lunch, Padmé at her desk, the others on the various chairs she kept in the office. Nobody spoke much, aware that both Padmé and Obi-Wan were deep in thought about the duchess's case.

Just as they were finishing up, they became aware of a rush of movement in the corridor outside. Sabé was considering going to find out what was going on, when a message flashed up on Padmé's data pad calling all senators back into session. Confused, Padmé cleared it and stood up, lying her unfinished meal aside.

"Moteé," she said, "please go and find out why they've summoned me back so soon. I'll gather my things and head to the pod."

Moteé nodded and left the room. Sabé quickly gathered the plates and put them back on Threepio's tray, while Padmé located her notes and slipped on the shoes that she'd kicked off under her desk. Moteé came back just as they were locking the office.

"Nobody knows what the session is for," she reported, slightly out of breath, "but it seems that Duchess Satine has had an accident, some kind of attempt on her life."

Sabé saw Obi-Wan's posture stiffen, his expression turning grim.

"She's not hurt," Moteé went on, "but she's apparently come back to talk to Chancellor Palpatine."

"I must go and see if she's all right," Obi-Wan declared.

Sabé nodded, having anticipated it, and said, "You know where we'll be."

"Yes. Excuse me, Senator."

Padmé waved him off, leading them towards the Naboo pod as he turned and walked swiftly away down the corridor.

Sabé's heart twisted painfully in her chest as she watched him go. She'd expected him to want to check up on Satine. She even understood it, she knew what a vulnerable position the duchess was in, but still she could not help feeling a tiny bit resentful at the way he kept rushing off.

They all sat for a while in the pod, waiting for all the senators to return to the arena. Chancellor Palpatine and Mas Amedda were both absent, their place instead occupied by Sly Moore, the Chancellor's Umbaran aide. She was a woman of few words, whose piercing white stare had a way of unnerving people. She wore a high-collared grey cloak that showed only her hairless pale head. Her expression was one of boredom, but that was nothing new. After ten minutes or so, she got to her feet, holding up a hand for silence. The murmur of voices quietened.

"I regret to inform you," she began, her Basic heavily accented, her voice low and commanding, "that Duchess Satine has been involved in an airspeeder incident that was almost certainly an attempt on her life."

A ripple spread throughout the arena as senators declared their anger and shock.

"She is unharmed, but the incident took the life of her pilot," Sly Moore went on. "She is in a meeting with the Chancellor as we speak, where he is attempting to persuade her that Republic intervention is unquestionably necessary. This latest attack is proof that Death Watch is out of control. A decision must be reached as to our actions, and so the Chancellor thought it prudent to bring the vote forward to today rather than wait until tomorrow." She brought her hands together, saying gravely, "Senators, please cast your votes and decide the fate of Mandalore."

Sabé frowned at her inflammatory words, watching as Padmé firmly voted in the negative. Sly Moore was looking down at her console as the results came in. Within seconds the final figures appeared on everyone's screens. Sabé craned her neck to look at Padmé's panel, pressing her lips tightly together as she read it.

"It is decided," Sly Moore announced, no hint as to her personal opinion in her voice. "We will send troopers to Mandalore and help them deal with this threat. A squadron will be deployed at sunrise."

Sabé watched Padmé bow her head, her shoulders tense. She sighed and got to her feet. Sabé, Moteé and Gregar stood too.

"Now what?" Sabé asked her.

"We find the duchess," Padmé said decisively. "I can break the news to her. She's not going to be happy."

Sabé silently agreed, feeling that it was a slight understatement.

They walked the busy corridors to Chancellor Palpatine's office. As they rounded the curve, they saw Obi-Wan and Satine ahead having a heated discussion, the Jedi's hands on the duchess's shoulders.

"Don't you see?" he was saying. "You need your friends with you, not held at arm's length."

Padmé halted, apparently feeling a little awkward at intruding, and the rest of them stopped behind her. Sabé glanced away from the scene.

Obi-Wan hadn't noticed them yet, asking Satine, "In your quest to be self-reliant have you decided to cut your friends out of your life?"

"I…I don't know," the duchess faltered.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan spotted them, letting go of her. "Senator," he said. "What is it?"

Padmé stepped forward. "The Senate completed its vote," she told them gently. "They've decided in favour of occupation."

Satine looked at her aghast. "When did this happen? The vote was supposed to be tomorrow!"

"It was during your meeting with the Chancellor," Padmé explained. "Your accident accelerated the Senate's decision. Republic forces are set to leave for Mandalore at sunrise tomorrow."

Face openly shocked, Satine walked past them, away from Obi-Wan. Turning, she threw back, "You see? I was right before. Counting on the Republic is a mistake."

With that, she continued on, her guards at her back, leaving a frowning Jedi in her wake. Padmé glanced up at him apologetically.

"I thought it might be easier coming from me," she admitted.

"In time, I think she will come to appreciate that," Obi-Wan told her with a weary sigh.

"Where is she going?"

"To the Ministry of Intelligence. She says she has a contact there."

"I hope she finds what she's looking for," Padmé said with heartfelt empathy. "I think she's headed for a future she won't much like."

Obi-Wan gave a nod of agreement. His eyes sought Sabé's, and she tried not to look as gloomy as she felt. It was not his fault, after all. She was the one whose feelings had changed.

They headed back to Padmé's apartment, where Sabé worked out the rest of her shift before returning home with Obi-Wan. Despite the drama of the first half of the day, the afternoon was uneventful, but she sensed that Obi-Wan was constantly on edge, as if waiting for news of Satine. It was no different once they got back to their safe-house. It was Obi-Wan's turn to make dinner, but he looked so distracted that Sabé offered to take over.

"No," he replied at once, turning to her with a look of surprise. "Thank you, I'm fine."

"Really?" she said sceptically, leaning back against the cooler and folding her arms.

"Yes." He absently stirred the pot of stew he was heating. "I just…I can't help but wonder…"

"What Duchess Satine is up to?" Sabé finished for him.

"She must have a solid reason for going to the Ministry of Intelligence," he told her. "I believe she thinks that there was something wrong with the recording of her Deputy Minister."

"Isn't it more likely that he was cut from the same cloth as Vizsla and Merrik? She would have said the same about them once, if they had given a similar speech."

Obi-Wan accepted her point with a little sideways tilt of his head. "That's true. But…she seems so sure this time."

"Has she said so?" Sabé asked curiously. She'd tried not to think too hard about what they might have spoken about when they were alone.

"No," he admitted, taking the stew off the heat and searching for plates. "It's just something I sense in her."

Sabé moved to fetch cutlery. "If she needs help, won't she ask for it?"

"I'm not sure any more," Obi-Wan said wearily, spooning out two portions of food. "She's still quite upset. I believe she's angry with me." He shrugged, but Sabé could tell it was bothering him.

"She may be angry, but I'm sure she still trusts you. You've made it quite clear that our circumstances don't affect your need to protect her. Or anyone who needs your help," she added hastily, concerned that she sounded too embittered.

Dinner in hand, they moved to sit down, and Obi-Wan said, "If she's trying to prove something to influence the Senate's decision, she's working to a strict time limit. I'm worried that it will make her…reckless."

"And I guess, as a Jedi, it may be difficult for you to be involved too," Sabé theorised.

"Yes, that had occurred to me as well."

They fell into a bout of silence, each eating their dinner, which was pleasant despite Obi-Wan's distraction, and thinking about their troubles. Sabé was worried about the Order of Sanctuary case, but she knew that Obi-Wan's attention would not be on it until Satine was back on Mandalore.

"Do you think–" Obi-Wan began, but the beep of his comlink cut his speech off. He pulled his holo projector from a pouch on his belt and activated it. The imposing figure of Mas Amedda materialised.

"Good evening, Master Kenobi," he said, polite but stern.

"Good evening," Obi-Wan replied, managing to keep his obvious surprise to a minimum.

"Forgive the intrusion, but I'm obliged to ask you if you have seen Duchess Satine since she left the Senate this afternoon."

Eyebrows raised, he answered truthfully, "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Why?"

"She is wanted in connection to the death of a Ministry of Intelligence employee," Amedda reported, sounding almost blasé.

Sabé's eyes widened, and Obi-Wan breathed, "What?"

"If you happen to see her, please ensure that she turns herself in for questioning."

"Of course," Obi-Wan answered, and Amedda's image vanished.

Sabé was stunned, watching Obi-Wan's confusion from across the table. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning.

"That must have been her contact," he surmised. "Death Watch probably eliminated them, whoever it was."

"But was it before or after they passed information to her?" Sabé asked rhetorically. "I don't understand this at all. It appears that Death Watch _want_ the Republic to come to Mandalore, but why? What would they gain from that?"

"I don't know, but no doubt they've thought it through at length. Count Dooku has a feel for elaborate plans."

Sabé bit her lip in thought, propping one foot on her seat so she could rest her chin on her knee. "You think she's in trouble, don't you?" she speculated, studying his expression.

He nodded, meeting her gaze. "I do."

Sabé opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but his comlink beeped again. This time, it was Satine's cloaked figure that appeared.

"Obi-Wan, come in," she hissed in a rush. "Obi-Wan, are you there?"

"Satine!" he greeted. "Where are you? Mas Amedda has demanded you turn yourself in."

"I know," she said grimly. "Listen to me. Obi-Wan, I need your help."

"Of course. What can I do?"

"I need you to come and meet me. Somewhere discreet."

"Where?" Obi-Wan asked at once.

"I'm in Sector GL5," she told him.

"That's near the entertainment district," Obi-Wan mused. "There's a busy square in the centre where you should be able to blend in."

Satine's figure looked upwards, and Sabé realised she was reading the signposts.

"I see it," she said. "I'll head there."

"I'm on my way," Obi-Wan told her. "Stay out of sight until I get there."

"All right. Please hurry." She disappeared.

Obi-Wan was already moving, retrieving his robe from the back of the sofa. "Stay here. I'll be as quick as I can."

"I'll come with you," Sabé stated.

"No," he said, shrugging into the robe. "You'll be safer here. It's better that you don't go wandering about in the underworld at night."

"I won't be wandering about, I'll be with you."

"Sabé, please," he entreated, gripping her shoulders with gentle hands. "Give me one less thing to worry about."

Caught in the earnestness of his gaze, she mutely nodded.

"Thank you," he said, managing a quick smile before letting her go and heading for the door.

"If there's anything I can do, please let me know," she called after him.

"I will." He shot her a grateful look before raising his hood and departing.

Sabé stood where she was for a long moment afterward, wrestling with her dislike of being left behind. When she'd tamed it, she busied herself with clearing the remains of their meal. After that, she waited. There was no use trying to do anything else, her mind simply wouldn't stay quiet. Sleep was absolutely out of the question.

Eventually, hours later, her comlink demanded her attention and she pounced on it.

"Sabé?" Obi-Wan said, his image appearing to jog on the spot. "Are you awake?"

"As if I could sleep," she scoffed. "What do you need?"

"Contact Padmé. I need her to call an emergency session of the Senate."

Sabé looked down at his avatar, taken aback. "Obi-Wan, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yes, I know, but it's important. We have the real recording from Minister Jerec, but Death Watch are trying to stop us, and the Republic is after Satine."

"All right," she assured him. "I'm on it. But knowing the Senate, it will be at least an hour before they'll be ready to see anything."

"We can stall for an hour, no problem," he said.

"Good luck," she offered, signing off. Knowing that Padmé had no com device in her room, she called Gregar instead.

"Typho," he answered after a moment, looking as groggy as he sounded.

"Gregar, it's Sabé," she specified, despite the fact that he could see her.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he grumbled.

Inwardly smiling at the words, she nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I need you to go and wake Padmé."

"Why, what's wrong?" he asked, instantly more alert. He sat up a little straighter, rubbing sleep out of his single eye.

"Long story, I'll explain later, but I need her to call an emergency session of the Senate. There's urgent new evidence about Mandalore's neutrality."

He groaned, but he was already moving out of bed. "Okay. I'm on it."

"I'll meet you at the Senate building," Sabé said. "Thanks, Gregar." She signed off.

Donning boots and a hooded cloak, she left the apartment. No doubt they would all question her wisdom of venturing out alone, but the waiting around was killing her. She'd rather take her chances on the streets.

She walked briskly to the Senate, the depths of her hood shading her face. She didn't feel that she had anything to fear though. Senator Daedrin would have to convene with the others, after all.

The night air was crisp and full of noise, the districts full of Coruscant's nocturnal residents. She hung back near the entrance to the Senate, watching the steady trickle of sleepy-looking senators making their way in. In the time it had taken her to walk there, Padmé had spread the word. She smiled to herself.

Then a hand clamped down over her mouth and she felt herself tugged backwards into the shadows, her back against a firm chest. She struggled, but there came a rush of warm air by her ear and a familiar voice hissed, "It's me."

Sabé stopped fighting, waiting for Obi-Wan to move his hand so she could ask him what the blazes he was doing.

Then he whispered again, just one word of explanation. "Daedrin."

Pausing, Sabé looked back at where she'd been standing, spotting the senator from Axum walking dangerously close to it. He did not look happy, but neither did most of the other senators making their way in. Obi-Wan lowered his hand, but maintained his grip on her upper arm. Together, they watched Daedrin's progress towards the Senate.

Then Sabé remembered where she was, how close Obi-Wan was standing. His warm presence at her back was comforting, even as it stirred old memories. Gently, reluctantly, she pulled away, turning to meet his gaze.

"Thank you for that," she said.

"I thought it was too much to hope that you would stay put," he replied with a sigh.

She smiled apologetically, although she was not remotely sorry. "You need to get a recording into the Senate, but Duchess Satine will be arrested if she's spotted. I'm the best person to smuggle it in," she declared.

"I hadn't thought of that," said Satine, emerging from the shadows.

Sabé flicked her gaze towards her, surprised. She hadn't noticed her there.

"We have a plan for that," Obi-Wan informed her. "Satine is going to turn herself in as a distraction so that I can sneak past the guards."

"Okay," Sabé countered, "but if you send me, you can stay here to protect her and she doesn't have to be arrested at all. Padmé will take care of things once I give her the recording."

"How will you get it past the guards?" asked the duchess. "I was worried about Obi-Wan getting past them due to his association with me. They may stop you too seeing as you are…his wife." She hesitated just barely over the words.

"I know from experience, Duchess, people very rarely pay any attention to handmaidens."

Obi-Wan sighed but nodded, convinced. "All right." He handed her a data chip, which she tucked into her sleeve.

"When is the Senate session due to start?" Satine asked.

"Whenever all the senators are present," Sabé replied, glancing back at the building's main doors. There were still people arriving. "Have either of you seen Padmé?"

"Not yet," Obi-Wan answered. "Could she have come in through the docks?"

"Possibly. Let me find out."

After a quick call to Gregar to confirm their location, Sabé ran to the Senate building just in time to join him and Padmé at the base of the steps.

"Where's Moteé and Teckla?" she asked.

"I didn't see any point in disturbing them," Padmé told her. "Let's get inside, then we'll talk."

Their small group passed by the guards with no issues and made their way to the Naboo pod. Once they were seated and signed in, Sabé leaned forward to pass Padmé the data chip.

"This is the real recording of Deputy Minister Jerec," she said in a low voice. "The first one we saw was edited, most likely by someone high up. Satine's contact in the Ministry of Intelligence got her this chip before Death Watch murdered him."

Padmé received the information with a grim look, all evidence of tiredness gone. She had thrown on a formal blue and gold gown, hiding her hair under an ornate headdress, and looked far more put-together than most people looked only an hour after being unexpectedly woken in the early hours of the morning.

The hatch in the middle of the floor opened and the seat of the Supreme Chancellor rose up out of it, Palpatine and Mas Amedda sitting in it looking rather bewildered and mildly grumpy. Amedda checked his console, where his screen was telling him who had yet to check in. He gave a nod to the Chancellor, which Sabé took to mean that everyone was present.

"My friends," Palpatine began, "thank you for responding so promptly at such an unsociable hour. I have been led to believe that there is some urgent objection to the decision to send troops to Mandalore. The chair calls Senator Amidala of Naboo, who is the reason we are all here." There was a subtle edge to his voice, as if he did not approve of Padmé's actions. No doubt he wanted his sleep.

Padmé stood and activated the pod, flying it down to the centre. "Thank you, Chancellor. I apologise for calling everyone here, but there has been a crucial development in the case for Mandalore's neutrality. I think this should cast new light on the so-called evidence we saw earlier," she said, holding up the data chip before inserting it into the holo projector.

Once again, Jerec's image appeared around the room. "The actions by our government have taken us into a period of civil war," his voice boomed. "To acknowledge it would be to invite panic in the streets. Death Watch is far stronger than we once thought, but we have been training for this. We can stop them. But if we are to combat them effectively, we must have the temerity to stand strong in the name of peace. And if we are to do so, we must reject any Republic assistance."

There was a murmur of voices undercutting his words as the senators took in what they were hearing.

"Instead, this government will act. It acts not out of pride, but for safety," the recording went on. "Intervention by the Republic will inflame the opposition, and this is why our government rejects the help of the Jedi. We must listen to the Duchess Satine. If we do not, we will ultimately cause our defeat." The holo gave a soft fizzle and then cut out.

The cries of the senators began to rise in volume, their mood, if not their words, perfectly understandable.

Chancellor Palpatine exchanged a glance with Mas Amedda, then raised his hand for silence. "Thank you, Senator Amidala, for bringing this to our attention. It is clear that Duchess Satine has been the victim of malicious framing. Since it appears that the Mandalorian government has been truthful with its people, I see no reason to force Republic assistance on them at this time. If, as they say, they have a plan to deal with Death Watch, then we will respect their neutrality and merely hope that they reconsider and join us at a later time."

A smattering of applause broke out at his words, and Padmé shot a triumphant smile back at Sabé.

"Senator Amidala," the Chancellor went on, "if you could join me in my office, I would very much like to hear how this came about."

"Of course, Chancellor," Padmé acquiesced.

"And tell Duchess Satine to come out from wherever she is hiding. She is no longer a suspect in the death of Davu Golec."

Padmé nodded, returning the Naboo pod back to its space. Sabé was already reaching for her comlink, punching in Obi-Wan's frequency.

"Sabé," he greeted. "What's going on?"

"We were successful," she told him with a smile. "The order to send troops to Mandalore has been cancelled. Chancellor Palpatine would like to speak to Duchess Satine. It's safe for her to come out now."

"That's good news. We're on our way."

By the time they had walked down to the Chancellor's office, Obi-Wan and Satine were waiting there. The duchess had lowered her hood, and was looking tired but pleased at the result of her quest for the truth.

Mas Amedda waved them all inside, where Chancellor Palpatine was awaiting them, smiling genially. The first light of the sunrise was beginning to stain the sky outside the panoramic window, bathing the room in a rosy glow. The Chancellor offered chairs to Satine, Padmé and Obi-Wan, leaving Sabé and Gregar to stand behind.

"Senator Amidala," he greeted, "thanks to you, the occupation of Mandalore is no longer necessary."

Padmé bowed her head graciously, but said, "The person to thank is Duchess Satine. She found the proof."

"I require no thanks," Satine spoke up. "Your respect for Mandalore's neutrality is thanks enough."

The Chancellor turned to her, his expression a mixture of remorse and embarrassment. "Allow me to offer a most sincere apology on behalf of the entire Republic. I'm afraid we were all manipulated into believing that we were doing the right thing."

"I understand, Chancellor," Satine said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "It is all forgotten."

Sabé suspected that her words were for diplomacy's sake only.

"As a token of good will," Palpatine added, "I would like to offer you an invitation to our annual gala, which will take place here in four days' time."

"Oh," Satine said, apparently taken aback. "Thank you, Supreme Chancellor, but I had expected to be back on Mandalore by that time."

"Think it over. Your name will be on the guest list regardless."

Satine nodded, smiling politely, but it was clear that her experience had left her wary of the Republic and its government. They still had no idea who had tampered with Jerec's speech.

"Now," said Palpatine, "I would be fascinated to hear your story, Duchess. How did you know the recording was not genuine?"

For the next fifteen minutes, Satine explained in hesitant tones, Padmé and Obi-Wan adding things here and there. The Chancellor sat behind his desk, hands clasped, reacting with predictable shock and amazement.

"Well," he said when she fell silent, "I'm very glad that you got the real recording to us in time."

"As am I, Chancellor," Satine commented sincerely.

"And now, I think it's time we all went home to rest," he declared, rising to his feet. The others all stood too. "I don't begrudge you summoning an emergency session, Senator Amidala," he went on, "but I'm afraid my bed is calling me. Please excuse an old man."

The usual pleasantries and leave-takings were spoken, and the party left the Chancellor's office. As they made their way through the corridors, Satine and Obi-Wan walked a few paces behind everyone else, engaged in a quiet conversation. Sabé stared fixedly at the back of Padmé's head, determined not to dwell on the way Obi-Wan always seemed to be drawn to the duchess.

 _Like an addiction, almost_ , she thought.

Gregar was a reassuring presence by her side, and Sabé wondered why she hadn't confessed her problems to him. He was probably the one person who'd completely understand how she was feeling. She guessed she was afraid. Speaking it aloud would make it real. She wasn't ready for that just yet.

* * *

 **A/N:** That concludes Satine's first CW appearance, now with added Sabé angst! Next chapter, formal ball. Nothing could go wrong there, right?


	18. The Politics of the Ballroom

**Chapter Eighteen – The Politics of the Ballroom.**

Chancellor Palpatine's annual gala was the highlight of the year for many. An event designed to tick multiple boxes on his to-do list, it was his way of thanking the senators for their ongoing service, of wooing potential new allies for the Republic, of trying to persuade neutral systems to join, and of gaining new investors. It was a huge occasion, to which every member of every senatorial team was invited. That was how Sabé found herself preparing to attend an event that her parents were also going to. Since getting back from Mandalore, she'd managed to stay busy enough to avoid them for much of the time.

In her room at the apartment, she twisted to look at the back of her dress in the mirror, struggling to fasten it up. It was a nightmare of a dress, fashioned from impractical flowing shimmersilk of burnt orange, with long, draping sleeves in light, transparent fabric, and a decorative band of velvet cinching the waist. It was low cut both at the front and the back, which made Sabé a little self-conscious, and there was nowhere to hide a weapon. Although she'd found a way around that, slipping a vibroblade into the low-heeled boots she was wearing.

There came a soft knock on the door, then it slid aside. Obi-Wan stuck his head into the room. "Are you ready? We don't want to be late."

"I wouldn't be late if it wasn't for this stupid dress," Sabé retorted grumpily.

Smirking, he approached her, gripping her upper arms and turning her around. Wordlessly, he started doing up the fastenings that she couldn't reach.

"Thanks," she mumbled, trying not to notice every time his hands brushed her skin.

"You're welcome," he replied, his voice low, catching a little as he spoke. "You look nice."

"Thank you," she said again, grateful for the unexpected praise. "Uh...so do you."

He caught her eye in the mirror, amused. "I look the same as I always do."

Repressing a sudden grin, she shrugged. "Yes, I know."

He laughed then, and so did she. "Smooth talker," he muttered.

She'd intended it as a joke, but she meant it too. Hopefully he hadn't picked up on that part.

"There," he said, moving away from her.

"Thanks for that. Let me just get my cloak, then we'll go."

When they were both ready, they left to join the rest of Padmé's party at her apartment. The senator was a vision in a golden shade of yellow, her gown tastefully extravagant with a satin bodice and a skirt of layers of embroidered fabric. Moteé and Teckla wore dresses identical to Sabé's, but in deep crimson and muted pink respectively. When they stood together, the three of them resembled a Coruscant sunset, with Padmé as the sun leading the way. Gregar, of course, was still on duty, but wore the formal version of his uniform.

"I feel underdressed," he commented to Obi-Wan, "don't you?"

"Oh, absolutely," the Jedi replied, deadpan. "I should have worn my good robe."

"That's not your good robe?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Oh." Gregar feigned surprise. "Well, it's nice."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied solemnly.

"Enough, you two," Sabé scolded them, because Padmé was struggling to contain her laughter.

They departed for the Senate, where the event was being held in one of the huge halls on the building's lower floors. Sabé was rather apprehensive for a multitude of reasons, all centring around who she knew would be in attendance and what that meant for her peace of mind. Senator Daedrin would be there, of course, and although she didn't expect him to bother her with so many people around, she was deeply wary of him. Her parents, too, would be there, honoured as associates of Padmé's. Sabé wasn't sure what to expect from them, but she knew she would be annoyed by it regardless. Lastly, Duchess Satine would be there, having extended her stay at the behest of Prime Minister Almec. Sabé hadn't seen her since the night of the emergency Senate session, but Obi-Wan had once or twice, drawn there by whatever magnetic force it was that tethered him to her.

Padmé's party was fashionably late, so the hall was already half full when they arrived. A highly-polished protocol droid took their cloaks, then announced them, and they began to circle the room, looking for people they knew. Padmé turned to them all, smiling.

"Don't feel that you have to stick with me all evening," she told them. "If you want to mingle, do so. If you want to dance, dance. I'll be perfectly fine."

"Thank you for the thought, M'lady," spoke up Gregar at once, "but I will stay with you, if you don't mind."

Padmé met his gaze, her features softening into a grateful smile. "As you wish," she said simply.

Sabé withheld a wistful smile, not wanting to draw attention to their interaction, which was reminding her, in a bittersweet way, of how things had once been between them. Moteé and Teckla did not seem to notice anything, both nodding in acceptance of Padmé's offer, but Obi-Wan caught her eye knowingly.

They'd been circulating for about half an hour when Sabé caught sight of the duchess. She was chatting amiably with Onaconda Farr, dressed in a stunning lace gown of glacial blue and white, her pale hair held back with a simple diadem. Obi-Wan spotted her too, and Sabé watched him take in the sight, his expression strangely thoughtful.

"Master Kenobi," came a voice from behind them, shattering the moment.

Turning, Sabé saw Orn Free Taa, accompanied, as always, by his two lithe female aides.

"Good evening, Senator," Obi-Wan greeted him.

"Good evening! I just wanted to thank you once again for your quick actions on board the _Coronet_. When I think of what might have happened..." He trailed off, shuddering dramatically.

"It's no problem at all," Obi-Wan assured him, smiling politely.

But it seemed the senator from Ryloth had more praise to give, raining it down on a slightly-embarrassed Obi-Wan while Sabé tried not to smirk. Then she caught sight of Duchess Satine trying to get her attention. Smiling apologetically to Obi-Wan, she walked over to her, wondering what she wanted.

"Lady Sabé," Satine began, her tone cordial even though her face was unsmiling. "I was hoping to have a word with you."

"Of course."

"I… I have been led to believe," she said carefully, "based on your reactions, that you know something of the history between…" Her eyes met Sabé's, completing the sentence silently for the sake of being overheard.

Sabé nodded. "Yes, I…I know a little." She thought the duchess might be self-conscious if she was aware exactly _how_ much Sabé knew about what had occurred when Obi-Wan had been stationed on Mandalore.

The duchess looked at her earnestly, as if what she was saying had been bothering her for some time. "I just want you to know that I bear you no ill will. Given the situation you were in, I might have done the same. And…he has no ties to me, not really."

"Oh…" she said, caught off guard. "Um…thank you, but…that's not necessary. It isn't like a marriage, really. Not in the way you would think."

"Isn't it?" Satine asked, one eyebrow slanted challengingly.

Sabé felt a traitorous blush sweep her cheeks. "He lives by the Jedi Code," she said, her voice in control even if her complexion wasn't cooperating.

Satine glanced over towards the man they spoke of. "Does he?" she said, but it did not sound like a question.

"And," Sabé added uncertainly, "…if you think he has no ties to you, then…with all due respect, I don't think you've been looking properly."

The duchess studied her with something that looked a lot like sympathy. "My dear, that man will only ever love the Jedi Order."

"I'm not sure that's true," Sabé argued, sharing the conclusions she'd recently reached as courteously as she could. "I think he's somehow…found a way to balance his feelings and the Code."

"But his commitment to the Jedi…"

"Means that he'd never leave them, true. But…that doesn't stop him _feeling_. And yet…it hasn't led him astray."

Satine stared at her, eyes narrowed broodingly. "I confess, I had not considered that."

"I only say it because I see it, Duchess," Sabé told her gently. "I know that you have accepted…" She sighed, knowing Satine understood her future and how it was unlikely to contain a certain Jedi. "But at least you know that he's genuine."

"I never doubted that he was genuine," Satine answered touchily.

"That's not exactly what I meant. I just…don't want to speak for him," Sabé admitted.

Satine's hard countenance softened a little. She looked briefly down at her skirt before meeting Sabé's gaze once more. "He cares for you a great deal."

Wary, Sabé nodded. "He's the best friend I have."

The duchess didn't reply right away, but her look implied that she saw through Sabé's words. "Your secret is safe with me," she said eventually.

Sabé didn't speak, turning away to look out over the crowd.

"May I ask a personal question?" Satine ventured, her tone openly inquisitive but not without sensitivity.

"I suppose so," Sabé said, frowning a little, half dreading what the duchess might think to ask.

"Your, uh… _opinion_ …of him…did it change after you married him or was it always there?"

Feeling a sense of relief that it was nothing too intimate, Sabé considered. There was no point in denying it, especially to the one woman who knew exactly how she felt. "I… Truthfully, I don't know anymore. Maybe both? I didn't think I felt anything other than friendship when I asked him to help me, but in hindsight… I just don't know." She shrugged, helplessly inarticulate. "What I do know is this: he would never turn away from the Jedi, but if he did…it would be you he would turn to." She was certain of that. She'd given the matter a great deal of thought.

"I'm not so sure," Satine murmured.

Sabé shot her frown, wanting to ask her to elaborate, but then there came an exclamation that cut through her question.

"Syrena!"

Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes for a brief moment before looking in the direction of the voice. "Mother."

Luma Simmonite, swathed from head to toe in midnight blue, her honey-blonde hair in an elegant upsweep, bustled up to her, smiling in a strange sort of approval. "Syrena, there you are," she said without preamble. "I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding us, you know. You're looking well. What a beautiful dress."

Sabé sent an apologetic look Satine's way, but the duchess seemed almost amused, turning away to snag a glass of wine from a passing serving droid.

"Thank you, Mother. How are you?"

"Very well. Busy. Your father seems to have disappeared, but I'm sure he'll turn up eventually."

"Glad to hear it," Sabé commented.

Behind Luma, Satine moved away to talk to Obi-Wan, who had finally escaped Orn Free Taa. Sabé watched her go, feeling a pang of jealousy at the way he smiled at her. Inwardly, she scolded herself. She hated feeling jealous, it was petty and unhelpful, and accentuated the fact that she had no control over her reactions.

"Idriel and Jensen send their love," Luma was saying. "Corin is growing so fast, you wouldn't recognise him!"

Sabé switched her attention back to the conversation. "Oh... Well, that happens," she said lamely.

Luma tilted her head, scrutinising her. "You look tired," she decided.

"I am tired," Sabé replied, thinking of all the times her overactive brain had kept her awake lately.

"You know, you should get a job that's less demanding. And safer. That horrible business with our security…"

"It's not the job, the job is fine," she said defensively, before realising that she didn't want to disclose the real reason.

A short distance away, Obi-Wan was sharing some anecdote with Satine, and she was leaning in to listen, laughing. Sabé watched them, unable to look away from their smiling faces and the intimate glances they were exchanging. Her heart felt like a rock in her chest, heavy and cumbersome, a dull ache pressing on her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

"Well," her mother rattled on, "you know what your father and I think. I won't repeat it here. Syrena? Are you listening?"

Sabé blinked, turning to look at her. "Sorry, what?"

Luma turned her gaze in the direction of the Jedi and the duchess. Her stern expression transformed into one of comprehension within seconds, and Sabé's stomach twisted as she waited for the barrage of questions and 'I told you so's. But then her mother did something she had never done: looked at her with compassion and understanding, saying gently, "Oh, my dear."

Sabé stared at her in shock for a moment, then, bizarrely, fought to keep herself from crying. Luma took her arm, marching her across the room and out onto the wide balcony. The cool night air was like a shot of caf, breaking Sabé out of the melancholy mood that had settled over her, allowing her to gain control of her emotions.

"I'm all right," she assured her mother.

"Yes, you look it," Luma said sardonically. Tone softening, she added, "I was afraid this might happen, although I didn't expect the involvement of the duchess."

"It was my choice to make," Sabé muttered stubbornly, "and I stand by it."

"Yes, of course you would. You're a Simmonite, however much you choose to throw your given name away."

Sabé swallowed hard, fighting a sudden wave of guilt. She'd never thought of it that way before, always so proud of the name she had earned. She hadn't considered how her parents had felt about it.

 _Guess lack of consideration runs in the family_.

"Your father thinks you were right," Luma went on, "and we were wrong."

Sabé turned to her, brow furrowed. "He does?"

Luma sighed, resting her hands on the balcony railing, gazing out over the twinkling lights of the Senate district. "Perhaps he's right. Maybe we were...misguided to try and force you to marry Senator Daedrin."

"You think?" Sabé could not help scoffing.

"To me, it seemed like he could offer you a good life," Luma said defensively. "Is it wrong of me to want that for you?"

"No, Mother, but it should be my choice," Sabé firmly stated. "And trust me when I say, I have dodged a blaster bolt where Daedrin is concerned. Perhaps literally," she added quietly.

"What do you mean?" her mother asked with narrowed eyes.

"I shouldn't have said that. Forget it."

"Does that seem likely?"

She gave a humourless little laugh. "Probably not. Just...trust me on this one, Mother. You'll find out eventually."

"And in the meantime?" Luma asked, turning to regard her.

"In the meantime?"

Her mother sighed deeply. "Syrena, stop being deliberately obtuse. Believe it or not, I do care that my youngest daughter is well on the way to getting her heart broken."

Sabé fell silent, chastened. "I can handle it," she said at length.

Luma studied her doubtfully. "I hope so."

Well aware that she was unlikely to persuade her mother that she'd be fine, Sabé added, "If it makes you feel any better, Padmé has spoken to the council back home. They're considering a verdict and we're waiting to hear back from them. The law could be repealed soon. When that happens, the marriage will be annulled."

"For your sake, I hope so. Even though it's probably not what you want. And quite frankly, he should be ashamed."

"Please don't," she cut in quickly. "It's more complicated than you think. He's done nothing wrong."

Luma looked sceptical, but nodded. In an unusual move, she put her arm around Sabé's shoulders in a one-handed hug. "You're a strong woman, Syrena," she said with a touch of awkwardness. "I'm proud of you."

Sabé wasn't sure what to say to that, but her mother broke the moment almost immediately.

"Now, I must try and find your father. Do you want to come?"

"Um, no thanks," Sabé declined, sending her a small smile. "I'll be in shortly."

Luma nodded, returning the smile, then swept away.

Sabé remained at the balustrade, looking out over Coruscant's lights. Even the Senate's lower floors offered impressive views, although it was not what she would have called beautiful. She'd been spoiled by Naboo.

 _That's the story of your life_ , a voice whispered in her head. _No other planet can compare to Naboo, no other man can compare to Obi-Wan…_

 _I can handle it_ , she told herself firmly. _I must._

She stayed where she was for a few more minutes, until the night's chill had her heading back inside to join the swarm of colourful guests. She had barely walked three steps from the balcony door when she was waylaid by Quaine Daedrin.

"Sabé," he greeted with a thin-lipped smile, the room's lighting throwing his features into sharp relief.

"Senator," she replied stoically.

 _Of course. Just to make my evening complete._

"How are you?"

"Very popular, it seems," she could not help saying. "And yourself?"

"Very well, thank you."

She met his gaze coolly. "Keeping busy in your spare time?" she asked, slipping an edge of insinuation into her words. Perhaps it was reckless, but the pace of the investigation was annoying her no end.

Daedrin stared her down for a beat before replying, "I get by."

Sabé smiled insincerely. "I'm sure you do."

"I was wondering how you were coping," he said conversationally, waving a hand, "considering the rumours that have been circulating recently."

"I don't know of any rumours," she answered truthfully. She tended to avoid the gossipy parts of the HoloNet.

Daedrin pasted on a look of disbelief. "No? About your husband and a certain Duchess of Mandalore."

A cold ripple of alarm shot through her. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. Really?" Then she laughed. "That's ridiculous. Obi-Wan only went to Mandalore just recently. I went with him."

"I believe that the story started some years ago," he told her haughtily, "something inappropriate between the duchess and him."

Sabé sent him a condescending smile. "If they started some years ago, I hardly think that makes them recent rumours, Senator. Excuse me." She moved past him, gritting her teeth.

"So there's no truth at all?" Daedrin addressed her back.

Pausing, she turned, keeping her expression neutral. "None whatsoever. Do you really think Obi-Wan would still be part of the Jedi Order if there was?"

An element of uncertainty crept onto his face, although she could tell she hadn't convinced him. "Well," he said after some consideration, "in that case, forgive my intervention. I only asked with your welfare in mind."

"I have no doubt that you dedicate a lot of thought to my…welfare." _In the hopes of proving a threat to it, most likely_ , she finished internally.

She turned her back on him without waiting for a reply, weaving her way through the clusters of people. She hadn't had high expectations for the evening, but she'd been hoping for something to prove her wrong.

 _So much for that._

* * *

Obi-Wan had watched Sabé slip away to talk to Satine, her smile amused yet apologetic as she left him with Orn Free Taa. He maintained his polite demeanour, of course, answering the senator's comments at the appropriate moments, but where he could, he also watched the two women, wondering what they were talking about. They struck a sharp contrast, so very different to each other.

 _Like fire and ice_ , he reflected.

They triggered such diverse feelings within him. Or at least, _he_ considered them diverse. An outsider might say he felt very similarly for the two, but that wasn't possible. They were too distinctive, each unique, each strong in their own way. Of course, he wasn't supposed to be feeling _anything_ for either of them, but it was far too late for that mind-set. Years too late. And yet his world hadn't ended. More and more he was beginning to realise that the Jedi Code was just words. What mattered were actions, choices. Ideals.

"...wouldn't you agree, Master Kenobi?"

"Oh, absolutely," he said with a smile, not having the slightest idea what he was agreeing with. "I don't want to take up all of your time, Senator. Enjoy the rest of the evening." Bowing, he diplomatically left the animated Twi'lek alone with his attendants.

It was not long before Satine glided up to him, her smile enhanced by a dash of shimmering make-up. "I believe he thinks you quite the hero," she said.

"It certainly seems so. I always thought that would be Anakin's territory!"

She giggled, eyes bright with merriment. He studied her face, now as familiar to him as it had been seventeen years ago. Her smiles came more easily now that the worries about Republic intervention on Mandalore were over, but she would be going back to confront other challenges. Death Watch were still out there, their plans postponed, perhaps, but not forgotten. He was glad she had decided to stay, that they had this opportunity to spend time together. He needed it, he realised. Because this time, he needed to bid her a more lasting farewell.

He hadn't quite recognised it for what it was until that moment, but he immediately knew it was true. This time, it was goodbye.

"Oh," she murmured softly. "There's a grave expression if ever I saw one." There was a hint of comprehension on her face, as if she could read his thoughts. She was saddened, but unsurprised. "What I said on the _Coronet_ …"

"Satine…"

"No, let me finish," she said, holding up a hand. The constant buzz of conversation around them rendered their words as private as if they were alone. "I… I realise what a difficult position I put you in, and I apologise."

Obi-Wan shook his head adamantly. "You don't have to apologise. It was a life or death situation. I'm aware that…some things have to be said, for peace of mind."

"Silences speak just as loudly," she said pointedly.

He sensed the hurt lying beneath the surface of her composure. She'd clung on to the memory of him for seventeen years, perhaps passed up opportunities for happiness, all the time knowing full well that he would never leave the Jedi Order. He'd done that to her. His ignorance. His selfishness.

"I am… _so_ sorry, Satine," he told her, the heartfelt weight of his guilt tainting the words. "I can never be what you need me to be."

She nodded sharply, blinking rather rapidly. "Yes, I…I know. I've probably always known."

"Make no mistake," he went on, meeting her gaze earnestly, "I will always care a great deal for you."

"But…goodbye?" she finished, trying to make it sound upbeat. It came out harshly far off the mark.

He didn't answer, looking at the floor with a heavy sigh.

"Do you think I would feel the way I do if you were…well, any less yourself?" Satine went on, managing to smile. "We always know exactly what we're letting ourselves in for. We do it anyway."

Obi-Wan glanced up, frowning at her choice of the word 'we'.

She took in his puzzlement with a secretive little look. "In some ways, Sabé's reading you all wrong, you know," she spoke up. "She seems convinced that…nothing has changed for you. Regarding me."

He took in the information with mild confusion. Sabé had been rather closed off to him in recent weeks. He hadn't been aware of her opinion concerning his relationship with Satine, but looking back he could see how she had reached her conclusion. Satine's troubles had affected him more than he'd intended. Then he remembered her words to him on board the _Coronet_.

" _I'll help you save the woman you love."_

His mind went suddenly blank as he pieced it all together: Sabé's preoccupation, her tightly-held control that had been shutting him out, her restless sleep patterns that her nocturnal footsteps had given away, her determination to throw herself into her job. It all seemed to make sense, but he couldn't quite accept it. She'd never seemed as if her feelings were turning that way. How could it be that he hadn't noticed?

"She promised me," he muttered, "she wouldn't get too…involved."

"You may not have this opinion of yourself, Obi-Wan, but you're the kind of man that can make a woman forget a promise of that sort."

He at once opened his mouth to deny it, but Satine interrupted him.

"You never were very good at recognising when people care for you," she scolded, although there was little maliciousness behind it. "You think we've grown apart over the years, and you're probably right." Her unnaturally placid mask slipped for an instant, allowing him to see how much the confession hurt her. "But," she went on, schooling her expression once again, "some things don't change. You… I mean this in the kindest way, my dear…you are very adept at denial."

Obi-Wan stood watching her carefully pluck her words from the air, rendered silent by the truths she was setting free.

"A perfect galaxy for you, as a Jedi, would be one where the temptation of attachment is never presented to you at all," Satine continued, her pale cerulean eyes observing his every reaction. "So that's what you strive to create for yourself. Within your own actions, you do everything you're expected to do to maintain the vows you've made to the Order: you put it first and withhold every selfish instinct you might happen to feel. But you have no control over others, especially their emotions. You don't want to believe that someone can love you, because it makes things complicated. So you convince yourself that those close to you feel nothing but friendship."

Her practice at public speaking was no doubt what enabled her to make such a speech without revealing too much of her own feelings. She spoke calmly, like one who hadn't the slightest personal involvement in the topic at hand. He wondered how she managed it. He felt more than a little stunned at her revelations. He hadn't been aware that he was 'adept at denial', but he found her words making an awful kind of sense, even if he didn't agree with everything she'd said.

"But you needn't worry," Satine said, her tone suddenly business-like and forcefully bright. "I don't believe that Sabé would do anything to jeopardise your…arrangement."

A vague acknowledgement of the statement shot through his head. The thought that Sabé would let her feelings interfere with either of their duties was absurd. She had far more control than that. She was selfless, much like a Jedi, but without the expectation to be so. It was not the first time he had thought so, even though Sabé herself disagreed.

"It's never my instinct," she had said once when he had remarked on it. "It's just something I do for people I care about. It's not a big ask to put them first. I hope they would do the same for me."

His immediate concern was that she would get hurt, but he knew better than to try and change her mind once she had decided on a path. The more he thought about it, the more he saw the truth in Satine's words. Despite the fact that they were married, he'd never once questioned Sabé's feelings or entertained the possibility that she could want more out of their relationship than he was able to give. He wondered if Satine was right, that he simply hadn't wanted to consider it. He knew with absolute certainty that Sabé would never put him in the situation where he had to make a difficult choice. Satine hadn't either, yet he'd come perilously close to making one nonetheless. The answer, the only answer he could ever give, was that his life as a Jedi was exactly where he was supposed to be. He knew that. He suspected Sabé knew it too, which brought him back to worrying that she would be hurt.

"I need to talk to her," he found himself saying, looking around for her orange-clad figure. She had vanished.

"Oh, Obi-Wan, I'm really not sure that's wise," Satine counselled, her frown a subtle yet clear sign of her disapproval. "She may be embarrassed if you reveal that you know. I told her secret was safe."

"I don't want to hurt her, but I can't pretend that nothing has changed. Our situation is on too fine a balance for that." At her slightly puzzled expression, he elaborated. "Our marriage may be an unusual one, but it is a partnership like any other, and that only works when both parties are in full knowledge of all the facts."

"What will you say?" Satine asked, a touch of genuine concern mixed with the curiosity that she did nothing to hide.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, running a hand through his hair. It was the one habit he had that betrayed his unease. Some things did not warrant the use of the Force.

There was an awkward pause. Satine was clearly wrestling with another question, one that she did not seem keen to ask. Then, with a resolved but almost fearful look, she added quietly, "Do you love her?"

He glanced at her, half tempted to lie, but found the truth slipping out before he could really think it through. "I don't know."

Although it was by no means an admission, he could tell that it was more than she was expecting to hear from him. A rapid slideshow of emotions flickered across her face before she composed herself and settled on a neutral expression.

"We both know that you will always be a dedicated Jedi," she said after some consideration. "Make sure that all parties are in full knowledge of the facts." She smiled at him, although her face showed undeniable sadness and betrayed how disappointed in him she was, however unfair it may be. "Goodbye, Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said softly.

There were many things he could have said. Instead, he met her gaze intently and bowed his head. "Goodbye, Satine Kryze."

He watched her walk away, her head held high. Although part of him felt pained to see her go, he also knew it was right.

 _Go_ , he directed at her departing figure, _live your life, be happy_.

Obi-Wan finally looked away as she melted into the crowd, finding his negative thoughts washed away by a calming sense of closure. That chapter of their lives was finished, years overdue. Now he had the present to deal with. Setting off weaving his way through the guests, he began his search for Sabé. He knew he had to find her. What was still uncertain was just what he was going to say to her when he did.

* * *

Oblivious to the dramas her companions were going through, Padmé was busy mingling, extending all her effort into being Senator Amidala at her most dazzling. Gregar trailed behind her as always, and she was glad to have him there. His presence often kept some of the more misogynistic senators from making inappropriate comments. Teckla, too, stayed beside her. Parties weren't her idea of a good time, Padmé knew. Moteé, however, had taken her up on her offer and disappeared.

Padmé hadn't yet made a full circuit of the room, constantly being waylaid to exchange a few words with other dignitaries. She'd spent the past five minutes trying to get away from an Umbaran aide whose name had escaped her. He wasn't quite as unpleasant as the senator he served, Mee Deechi, but he was odious enough that she was gradually inching away. Or, rather, trying to.

"Well," she said, smiling tactfully, "I should-"

"Ah, this song!" he interrupted her. "Senator, you _must_ join me for a dance."

Padmé pasted a benevolent look of regret on her face. "Oh, thank you so much for the offer, but I've promised this dance to Captain Typho here."

Gregar smoothly covered up his surprised reaction, offering the aide a smile that lasted less than a second.

"Surely he will understand," the man went on.

"I would not dream of breaking my word," Padmé told him, backing away. "Excuse me."

Taking Gregar's arm, an amused Teckla following on behind, she marched away towards the dance floor.

"You can't be serious," Gregar muttered under his breath.

"You're my Chief of Security," she said firmly, practically dragging him to a space amongst the dancing couples. "Protect me!"

He sighed, but his slight smile gave him away. With some awkwardness, they began the steps. Gregar's palm was warm on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers for the first time in a long while.

"You're leading," he accused her with wry amusement.

"Am I? Sorry." She relaxed, letting him take the lead. He knew what he was doing, after all. Every member of the Palace Guard had learned court etiquette, for the purposes of undercover work, which included formal dances. It seemed Gregar had forgotten none of it. Their movements grew more in sync once Padmé stopped trying to lead, and she found herself enjoying the dance.

"So, Captain," she said, looking up at him with a smile, "how do you like working for me?"

Employers engaged in dances with their employees all the time. It was almost expected at an event like the gala.

"I enjoy the challenge, M'lady," he replied at once.

"I wasn't aware that it was challenging."

"Well," he said with a quick shrug, "let me put it this way. My job would be a lot easier if people stopped trying to kill you."

She laughed. "Yes, so would mine."

"I've tried asking them to stop," he went on, "they don't seem to listen."

"No? How rude." She twirled away from him as the dance demanded, spinning back to return to his arms. "Well, thank you for working through the difficulties and remaining in my service."

"It would take more than a couple of difficulties to make me leave," he told her seriously. He'd proven that time and again.

Padmé met his gaze. "I know."

He nodded in acknowledgement. They understood each other. They always had.

"I don't want to step out of line," he said quietly, "but…I just want you to know…I know you're not okay. I see it, all the time. If you need to talk, just…know that you can. I'll always listen."

Padmé gave a nod, letting her gratitude shine out in her small smile. She was aware that he very rarely spoke so openly, so she appreciated it all the more.

"Thank you."

She glanced away, fully conscious of the fact that it would be too easy to get caught up in their mutual understanding. They mustn't appear as anything more than a senator and her security officer engaging in a diplomatic dance.

Gregar twirled her once more before they separated and bowed to each other, the music drawing to a close. Padmé smiled at him genially, but his expression had already closed off. When she turned around to look for Teckla, she saw why.

"Anakin," she said in surprise.

* * *

 **A/N:** A wild Anakin appeared. So that's farewell to Satine for the moment. She'll be back, though. If you've seen Clone Wars, you'll know what's ahead.


	19. More Complications

**Chapter Nineteen – More Complications.**

"Anakin."

"Good evening, Senator," the Jedi intoned, his manner polite but for the ice in his eyes. "How are you?"

Padmé studied him warily. "Very well, thank you. And you?"

"Been better."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said with sensitivity. "I was just about to get some fresh air. Join me?" She knew she had to defuse the situation before it grew out of control.

His mouth was turned down in a pout, but he accepted. "Of course."

Padmé discreetly waved Gregar and Teckla back, stepping out onto the balcony with Anakin. "What brings you here?" she asked carefully. She didn't want to ask _why_ he was there, or say that she hadn't been expecting him. He'd simply take her behaviour to mean that she was doing something she needed to hide.

"Chancellor Palpatine invited me personally," he told her, a touch of pride in his voice.

"It's a duty for me," she admitted, hoping he'd cool down if she confided in him. "So many senators being polite just because they have to. It's all so…fake. Just now I had to escape and dance with poor Captain Typho just to make sure I didn't punch Mee Teechi's aide in the face!"

A trace of a smile ghosted over Anakin's face. "Aggressive negotiations?" he asked.

Knowing then that she'd succeeded, Padmé grinned, partly in relief. "Almost. I didn't think it would be appropriate for the ballroom."

"Probably not." He turned to her, eyes hopeful. "Can _I_ dance with you?"

Padmé hesitated. They could get away with it, especially considering the length of time they'd known each other. But Anakin was so open with his emotions. She couldn't bear to have her colleagues take notice of the way he stared at her.

"I don't know," she said gently. "Would that be a good idea? People might talk."

"I don't care," Anakin hissed.

"Yes, you do. I won't have either of our careers put in jeopardy over something that isn't important."

He glanced at her, seeming a little chastened, his annoyance still lingering in his expression. "Fine."

Padmé inwardly sighed, leaning her arms on the railing. It was going to be a long evening.

"I can't stand that other people get to dance with you when _I_ don't," he said through clenched teeth. "It's not fair."

"It's one night a year," she soothed. "It's expected of me to dance with people, I'm a public figure, Anakin."

"I know," he mumbled, looking down at his hands, one robotic, one flesh. "I should go find the Chancellor. Can I come by later?"

"I…I don't know what time I'll get out of here," Padmé told him, trying to let him down gently. "I'm going to be really tired and I have a meeting first thing tomorrow."

"I'm accompanying Master Windu to Vanqor in the morning. When else will I get to see you?"

She glanced away. She had no answer for him. "I don't know."

"You don't seem to care either," he retorted sharply.

"Anakin," she said with disapproval. "I can't plan my entire life around your schedule. I'm sorry you're disappointed, but my work is important to me too. You know that."

He met her gaze, frowning. "Sure I know that. I've heard it enough times." He moved away from the railing, turning to go back inside.

"I'm sorry," she spoke up, "but you can't just–"

Quicker than she would have believed, he rounded on her, making her jump.

In a cold voice, he spat out a single word. "Don't."

In the Coruscant night light, she saw a flash of yellow in the depths of his eyes, but it was gone as rapidly as it came. Anakin spun on his heel and entered the ballroom, his robe billowing in his wake.

Padmé remained where she was for a moment, shocked. She was breathing fast and shallow, knuckles white where she gripped the railing behind her.

 _I'm afraid_ , she realised with a jolt. _I'm afraid of him_.

At the sudden comprehension, her fear turned to anger as she recalled the way he'd acted, and she was glad that they'd had the balcony to themselves.

 _He doesn't get to speak to me that way_ , she decided firmly. _I won't take it._

Gregar and Teckla both turned to her curiously when she returned to the gala, the former with a touch more concern.

"Everything all right, M'lady?" he asked her.

"Fine," she lied. There was nothing she could do about it then and there. She had to find a way to get through the rest of the evening. "Where is Senator Organa? I should say hello to him."

"I saw him talking to Giddean Danu," Teckla spoke up, "over by the buffet table."

"Let's go and see if he's still there," Padmé said decisively.

 _It's going to be a_ very _long evening_.

* * *

All that Obi-Wan had planned to say to Sabé evaporated the moment he saw her. Not only was it neither the time nor place for such a conversation, she had very clearly already had one or two heavy discussions. She stood off to one side of the room, as far into a corner as she could contrive to get. Her face was blank, but her Force signature radiated annoyance, with traces of pain woven among it.

When she looked up at him, however, her smile was familiar and friendly, and he wondered if Satine was seeing affection that wasn't there. But the longer he studied her, looking into the dark depths of her eyes, the more he began to identify the underlying hurt that blunted the brightness of her expression. He suddenly found he could not smile back at her. Aware that she was accustomed to a warmer greeting, he was not surprised when she asked him what was wrong.

"Oh, nothing," he answered her, brushing it aside. "Socialising with dignitaries is not really my forte."

Her smile turned mischievous. "Orn Free Taa seems to have started the Kenobi fan club."

He narrowed his eyes at her teasingly. "He will find himself the sole member of it."

"Is that so?" she said doubtfully.

He knew what – or rather, who – she was thinking of. Deciding he should raise that topic sooner rather than later, he cleared his throat. "I, uh… Duchess Satine and I have parted ways."

"Yes, she leaves tomorrow, doesn't she?" Sabé said with sympathy.

"She does," Obi-Wan confirmed. "That wasn't what I meant though. You were right when you said that the past still had bearing on our actions. It was time to…sever that tie."

She turned to him, eyes wide. "You…?"

"Said goodbye," he finished for her. "Yes. It was time."

Sabé's mouth hung open as she took in the information. "Oh… I'm…surprised. Are you okay?"

He nodded, because it was the truth. "It was the right thing to do."

Silence fell, and Sabé stared at the mingling guests. Obi-Wan studied her, not finding much to read in her countenance.

"You know what?" she said at length. "This is the worst ball I've ever been to."

He laughed at that, although he didn't much feel like it. "Same."

She glanced up at him, her expression openly compassionate. "Shall I find Padmé and ask if we can leave?"

Obi-Wan sensed that that was her greatest wish as well as his, so he nodded in agreement. "Yes, let's."

Adopting what he suspected was a falsely bright tone, she slipped her arm through his. "Stick with me, Kenobi. I won't let the fan club get to you."

He offered her a genuine smile. "That's the best thing I've heard all evening."

* * *

Sidious retreated to his office as soon as diplomacy allowed him. The gala was a tedious affair, but it always had its moments that rendered it useful. He'd observed much over the course of the evening that he mentally filed away for later use. One thing he had noted with interest was Anakin's reactions to Padmé Amidala's behaviour. He'd always known the boy had a possessive streak. He hadn't even needed to delve into the Force to discover that. Anakin had given it away simply in speaking, first about the new family his mother had found on Tatooine, and then, more critically, with what he purposely _did not_ say about Amidala.

Sidious was willing to admit he'd been going about things the wrong way. He'd been feeding Anakin dreams, each of them showing Amidala's death, building up the boy's fear of losing her. But, he realised, there was more than one way to lose someone.

As he'd mingled with his guests, Sidious had observed something that he was certain no one else had seen: the way Amidala's Chief of Security looked at her. And more importantly, the way she looked back. Oh, it had been subtle. They were very discreet. In fact, Sidious suspected that nothing was actually going on between them. He couldn't imagine Padmé Amidala breaking her wedding vows lightly, and she did seem to genuinely care for Anakin. But that didn't mean that it couldn't be exploited. When the time was right, he would slip a different kind of dream into the Chosen One's mind. Anakin's jealous nature would take care of the rest. Amidala and the captain were expendable, of course.

As he stood thoughtfully gazing out over Coruscant, Sidious mused to himself that there was more still that could be done. If Amidala could be prompted to act, to take the captain as her lover, then that would be further fuel for Anakin's anger to grow. Perhaps he should send her a dream or two as well. Something that would push her away from Anakin. Most likely she would turn to the captain of her own accord. Only when the time dictated. Sidious was a master at playing the long game. He could wait.

In the meantime, he had things to do to prepare for the following morning's session. It amused him to gather all the senators together early the day after a big party. In the harsh light of day, it was easy to take note of who had been a little too free with his hospitality.

Turning away from the window, he seated himself at his desk. It was time to start cashing in on the work Senator Daedrin had been doing for him.

* * *

The Naboo pod was rather full during the following morning's Senate session. Sabé was the only handmaiden in attendance, sharing the bench on the left of the pod with Gregar. Moteé and Teckla waited back at the apartment with See-Threepio so that Luma and Jago could sit on the right-hand bench. Padmé had her seat to herself, of course, and she was busy setting up a new page of flimsi notes while they waited for the session to start.

"Teckla told me she saw something strange last night," Gregar said in a low voice.

"Strange how?" Sabé asked, holding her hood back so she could see his face.

"She said she saw Moteé talking to Senator Daedrin."

Sabé frowned, confused. "I didn't know they knew each other."

"I don't think they _do_ know each other," Gregar admitted. "Moteé hasn't said anything about it, but I'm worried. He's bound to know that she's a member of the Order of Sanctuary."

"Yes," Sabé agreed, concerned. "Should we ask her? I mean, it seems…rude. And you know what she's like, she'll take it to mean we doubt her ability to handle herself."

"I haven't decided."

"Technically, you are her superior. I know we handmaidens are a separate unit, but when it comes down to it…"

"I know," he said with a sigh. He rubbed his single eye with a gloved hand.

Sabé studied him, a slight frown on her face. "When was the last time you had a day off, Gregar?"

He lowered his hand and sent her a stern look. "You know I hate time off."

"That's not what I asked."

"It was weeks ago," Padmé chimed in, looking back over her shoulder. "You used to paint, Captain. What happened to that?"

"Good question," said Sabé, folding her arms. "I haven't seen a new piece from you in ages."

Gregar's gaze flicked between them. He looked like a man trying not to laugh because it would ruin his appearance of exasperation. "Ganging up on me is hardly fair."

"It's not ganging up," Padmé corrected him, "it's showing concern, which we are entitled to do."

"Our sweet senator makes a very good point," Sabé declared with a smile. "See, this is why she is the politician and we're the security."

Gregar threw a look back at where Obi-Wan was standing in the alcove behind the pod. "Little help?"

"Oh, I'm staying well out of this," the Jedi said at once, holding up his hands.

"I thought you Jedi were peacekeepers."

"My friend, it is more than my life is worth," Obi-Wan apologetically said, smiling.

Sabé bit her lip against a giggle. Her parents were looking rather bemused, which just made her want to laugh harder. Fortunately, the arrival of Chancellor Palpatine broke up the conversation.

"My fellow delegates," he began, as was his wont, "let me say how very glad I was to see so many of you at last night's gala. I hope that all of you enjoyed it as much as I did." He bowed his head graciously as a ripple of applause spread around the room. "Thank you, thank you."

Next to her, Sabé heard Gregar give an almost-silent huff of sarcastic laughter.

"I do apologise for calling you all together so early in the day," the Chancellor went on, "but I'm afraid I have some important information to share. I regret to say that it appears that someone is mounting a personal attack against my homeworld of Naboo."

Sabé tensed, as did every one of her companions. Nearby heads turned to regard the Naboo pod, and Padmé lifted her chin a little as she straightened her impassive mask.

"The Order of Sanctuary," Palpatine said between dramatic pauses, "is a legendary symbol of Naboo's high class of warrior. Over the course of recent months, it has become clear that someone has been targeting them. Several Order members have been murdered in cold blood.

Sabé glanced back at Obi-Wan, who was looking grim, his hand covering his mouth. He met her gaze and they communicated their wariness in a single look.

"I have been advised against telling you this, for the sake of those who are investigating the matter. However, I know that several of you owe your continuing safety to the Order, and I believe that you deserve to know so that you may be on the alert." The Chancellor's shoulders slumped as he gave a sigh. His next words were quiet, laced with sadness. "My friends, you know I care for each and every one of you, but I cannot forget my ties to my homeworld. I take these ongoing attacks very personally. If it is being done as some kind of objection to the work I do here, then I plead with the culprit to take the matter up with me and stop taking the lives of innocent people."

Several shouts of agreement echoed through the arena. The ever-present HoloNet droids drifted closer to get close-up shots of Palpatine's face.

"I hope and pray that those behind it will be brought to justice." He halted, seeming to gain better control over his emotions. "Until that time, please be careful and vigilant. And to the Order of Sanctuary, I extend my most heartfelt condolences, and I beg you to be mindful. We don't want to see any more unnecessary deaths, _especially_ if they are in objection to my actions."

Jago leaned forward to whisper something to Padmé, who nodded. Sabé shot a look to Obi-Wan, but he had disappeared. No doubt he was contacting the Jedi Council.

Padmé stood up and moved the Naboo pod forward. "Chancellor."

"The chair recognises Senator Amidala of Naboo," Mas Amedda announced.

"Thank you for pledging your support to our planet at this time," Padmé spoke up. "It is gratifying to know that you still hold Naboo's interests close to your heart."

"Thank you for your kind words, Senator," the Chancellor replied gallantly. "I always shall."

Padmé bowed her head and sent him a smile before returning the pod to its dock. Sabé understood why she had to thank him, but she suspected that inwardly Padmé shared her own view: that the announcement was a mistake that could jeopardise the Jedi investigation. And judging by his sudden absence, she knew Obi-Wan thought it too.

"This could make things interesting," she muttered under her breath.

Beside her, Gregar nodded in agreement.

* * *

"What was _that_?" Quaine Daedrin demanded the moment he heard the door hiss closed behind him. "You promised I'd have time to–"

"If I were you, Senator, I would reconsider my tone of voice very carefully." Sitting calmly at his desk, the Chancellor seemed unruffled by Daedrin's anger, but his eyes were cold. "Remember to whom you are speaking."

Daedrin hesitated. Since he'd accepted the Chancellor's commission, he had slowly begun to realise that he had no idea who the man really was. He was not simply a former senator from Naboo. He was clearly much more. Deadrin just didn't know what. Humbled, he fell silent.

"I informed you from the very beginning that my intention was to use the murders to my advantage," Palpatine intoned, peering at him over his fingertips.

"I know, Chancellor," Daedrin tried to clarify, "but–"

"I don't remember agreeing to any situation where I was required to explain myself to _you_."

Daedrin swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes, Chancellor. I merely wish to express my concern over completing the rest of the task with the entire Republic on alert."

Palpatine smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about it. "Why, Senator Daedrin, I have faith in your abilities."

Daedrin said nothing. He was fighting a losing battle, better to give up before he made a complete fool of himself.

"How is that delightful young woman I sent your way?"

"She's working out just fine, Chancellor," he reported truthfully. "She's exactly what I needed, plus she has insider knowledge, including the location of the Order's Temple. When the time is right, we'll storm it. But that won't be for a while."

"I'm glad to hear it," Palpatine said cheerfully. "I will have need of a big event like that in due course. Wait to hear from me. I'll know the opportune moment."

Daedrin inclined his head. "Of course, Chancellor. May I go?"

Palpatine scrutinised him calculatingly. "You were the one who marched in here, Senator. Are you quite finished?"

Daedrin felt himself flush in embarrassment. "Yes, Chancellor. My apologies."

"Then you may go."

Without hesitation, he did so, spinning on his heel and leaving the wily old man behind him. Later he could go to his base of operations. There would be a certain 'delightful young woman' who he was sure would listen to his complaints.

* * *

The Jedi Council, as predicted, were not happy with the development. However, they were optimistic that the culprit, be it Daedrin or someone else, might panic at the Chancellor's statement and make a mistake. Obi-Wan reported all of this back to Sabé, who frowned and once again made her opinion of the investigation's progress known.

Both seated at the table in Padmé's kitchen, they spoke quietly, mindful of the other occupants of the apartment.

"I have it on good authority that the investigation has achieved more than may be immediately apparent," Obi-Wan told her.

"Like what?"

"I…don't know," he admitted.

Sabé glowered at him, although she knew it was not really his fault. "Obi-Wan," she said with a weary sigh, "what am I supposed to do? I can't _stand_ this."

He reached out, covering her hand with his. Despite her annoyance, her heart gave a jolt.

"Things are moving into place," he assured her. "I can sense it."

"You can?"

"Yes. Nothing specific. Just…a feeling."

A little pacified, Sabé met his gaze. "Well…your feelings have turned out to be more accurate than other people's hard evidence, so…" She shrugged.

His blue eyes were intense, as if he was searching for something within her very soul. She found herself rendered speechless, wondering what it was he sought. Part of her couldn't help noticing how close he was. Close enough to kiss if she were so inclined. She shut that thought down right away, afraid that he would somehow see it in her face.

Approaching footsteps broke the spell and they both looked away, Obi-Wan pulling his hand back. Padmé appeared in the doorway, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Sabé," she greeted, "I've just had word from the Council in Theed."

Sabé's stomach twisted. "And?"

Padmé's irritation was plain to see. "They can't rule on the marriage law yet. They want more evidence."

Ignoring the traitorous part of her that was a little pleased by the news, Sabé shook her head in disbelief. "That's ridiculous," she said. "Your case was perfect."

"Apparently not perfect enough," the senator said crossly. "I'm going to sift through more documents when I can, but I don't see how I can say anything more than I already have."

"Maybe they just need to hear it again," Obi-Wan theorised.

"Maybe." Padmé pulled a face. "Well, I'd better get back to work. I just thought you'd want to know."

"Thank you," said Sabé with a nod. "I'll be there soon."

"No rush, you have another ten minutes." With a rustle of fabric, she was gone.

Sabé turned to Obi-Wan. "Guess you're still stuck with me," she quipped, trying to sound flippant.

She expected him to make some dry remark, but he simply studied her thoughtfully before giving a distracted smile.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied at once. "It's just…been a rather unexpected day."

Sabé raised her eyebrows and sighed, nodding in agreement. "To say the least."

Obi-Wan's comlink demanded attention and he tugged it out of his pocket. Ki-Adi-Mundi appeared.

"Master," Obi-Wan acknowledged him. "What can I do for you?"

"The Council wishes to speak to you, Master Kenobi. It's quite urgent."

Obi-Wan shot a glance at Sabé, who waved her hand, indicating that she'd be fine.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Kenobi out." He deactivated the holo projector, returning it to his robe. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" he asked Sabé.

"I'll be fine. I don't think Padmé is planning on leaving the apartment again today. I'll just wait here until you're done."

"All right. I'll see you later." With a quick smile, he left the table and was gone, leaving Sabé alone with her thoughts.

* * *

It was the middle of another Coruscanti night. The apartment was dark, lit only by the movement of the traffic outside. There was just enough light to see by, enough for Sabé to look up into Obi-Wan's clear blue gaze. He dipped his head and kissed her neck, drawing a small gasp from her. She ran her fingertips up his bare back, tightening her hold. He caressed her knee, then hooked it more securely around his hip as they kept pace with one another. Not a word was spoken, nor was it needed. She looked deeply into his eyes, seeing the truth of his feelings for her, such as they were. Gods, but she loved him. How she wished she'd known that the first time they had fallen into each other's arms. Leaning forward, he brushed her lips with his, his beard scratching her skin. He breathed her name against her mouth. And then a sudden, monstrous clap of thunder broke through their peace.

Sabé's eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp. She was in Padmé's apartment, lounging in an easy chair. Gregar shot her a look from his own seat. He was leaning down, clearing up a broken caf cup.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he said apologetically.

 _Guess that explains the thunder_ , she thought, trying to calm her wildly-beating heart.

"Bad dream?" Gregar asked, frowning at whatever expression she was pulling.

"Uh…no. No…just…unwanted."

The dream, part memory, part fantasy, drifted back to her and she blushed. She leaned forward, letting the dark curtain of her hair hide her reddened cheeks. She supposed she should be glad she'd managed to sleep at all.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

"Only an hour or so," Gregar told her. "Don't worry, you'd finished your shift."

Sabé pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. The images still greeted her behind her closed lids. She let out a quiet grumble of annoyance, well aware that dwelling on events that would never be repeated was a waste of time and energy. But still, her feelings refused to listen. Slowly, desire stole through her body, moving like a wave creeping up a shore, equally as persistent and difficult to ignore.

Yet she knew it wasn't just the physical side of it that haunted her. It had been so much more than a physical act. The time they'd spent in each other's arms had been the closest, most intimate thing she'd ever shared with someone. In those scant hours, they had completely and utterly known one another. She had felt her soul laid bare, had been accepted and valued without question or expectation. She'd never known anything like it. And she never would again.

 _Get a grip, Sabé._

She heard Gregar deposit the pieces of cup on a nearby table. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

She shook her hair back from her face and nodded, massaging her temples. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now. I'm not sleeping well."

"I gathered that," he said with an element of sympathy. Tone brightening, he added, "But you made a lovely model."

Sabé narrowed her eyes. "What?"

Smirking, Gregar showed her the drawing he'd made of her. She was slumped in the chair, her legs thrown over the arm rest, her hair, mercifully, covering her face.

"Gods," she grunted. "Thank you for that."

"You requested more artwork," he said, "I delivered."

Sabé shook her head, unable to keep her amusement from her face. "The _one_ time you actually take my advice…"

"I know. Isn't it ironic?"

A burst of laughter slipped from her and she leaned back in her chair, sighing. "Where is everyone?"

"At dinner," Gregar informed her, returning his drawing to the table.

"Are my parents still here?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"I thought Obi-Wan would be back by now," Sabé mused. "Must be something really important."

"It was," came a familiar voice.

Obi-Wan entered the room with a sweep of his robe, looking a little frazzled. Sabé sat forward, appraising him.

"Are you okay? Do you want something to drink?"

He waved off the offer. "No, thank you. Let's get home."

Sabé clamped down the little burst of warmth at his use of the word 'home', nodding and getting to her feet. "Of course. Let me just get my cloak."

Whatever it was, it was clearly big news. Sabé wondered what that meant for her. So often these days, her definition of normal was being rewritten.

 _Guess we'll find out_.

* * *

 **A/N:** More Clone Wars content ahead!


	20. Deception

**A/N:** More Clone Wars storylines here, so spoilers I guess. Any dialogue you recognise comes from there. I also borrowed a title. I suck at titles.

To Takeda - Thanks for the review! Glad to have converted you to Sobiwan :)

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty – Deception.**

Her palms were sweating. Nerves turned her insides stormy, and she fought to calm herself.

 _You can do this, Sabé._

She was off-duty, spending a laid back evening with Padmé in the veranda lounge. See-Threepio was fussing around them, pouring drinks. Moteé was in her room, calling her family. Teckla was out with a friend. Gregar was also off-duty for once, on his way up from his own apartment to join them for drinks. His team of officers were at their stations. Everything was normal.

Except that Obi-Wan was on a mission with Anakin and Ahsoka Tano.

After two months of silence from the Order of Sanctuary murderer, the Jedi Council had deemed it safe enough to send Obi-Wan on a slightly longer, crucial assignment. Sabé disapproved of the idea. The whole thing sounded ridiculously dangerous. But of course she could not object.

"What do you think of this wine?" Padmé asked her, cutting through her thoughts.

Sabé forced a smile onto her face. "I quite like it. Why? Don't you?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe I need to drink more than one glass!"

"That's how it all starts," Sabé teased.

Padmé pulled a face, reaching for a slice of shuura fruit. Sabé surreptitiously glanced at her chrono. It had been several hours since Obi-Wan had left.

 _It won't be long now_.

As if summoned by her reflections, Gregar clattered down the stairs, a grim expression on his face. Sabé's heart gave a little flip in anticipation.

"There you are," Padmé greeted him warmly. "I'll get Threepio to get you a drink."

"No, thank you, I'm fine," he said, barely taking his eye off Sabé.

"What is it?" she made herself say, rising to her feet. "Gregar?"

Gregar shifted awkwardly, approaching her with a look of compassion. "I've…just had word from the Jedi Temple."

"Oh?" said Padmé, standing too, a cloud of worry settling over her face.

Gregar reached for Sabé's hand, holding it in both of his. "Sabé…uh…I don't really know how to say this, but…Obi-Wan has been killed."

Sabé simply stared at him, hearing Padmé's exclamation beside her. She swallowed hard.

"Wh…what?"

"The mission he was on," Gregar explained, "he was…shot. By a bounty hunter."

Sabé dropped back down onto the sofa, her hand slipping out of his grip. Padmé sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Their kindness just made her feel worse.

"I'm so sorry, Sabé," said Gregar, sitting on her other side and exchanging a worried look with Padmé.

"It's…it's okay," she said, her voice faint. "He was…just a friend. I'll be okay."

And then the tears came.

* * *

 _Two days ago._

Obi-Wan had a heavy weight of expectation pooling in the pit of his stomach as he joined Masters Yoda and Windu in one of the Jedi Temple's meditation rooms. He was fairly confident he knew why he'd been summoned. The conversation they'd had two months before was still fresh in his mind.

"Thank you for coming," Mace Windu greeted him as he took a seat on one of the low stools.

"This is about Moralo Eval, isn't it?" Obi-Wan said, looking between them.

"Correct, you are, Obi-Wan," Yoda nodded.

The night the Council had summoned him, when he'd left Sabé at Padmé's apartment, they had spoken of a notorious criminal mastermind, Moralo Eval. They had heard word that the unstable Phindian was planning to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine, and there was a chance that Obi-Wan would be needed in the operation to stop the plot. Eval had been captured, however, and it seemed as though it had died down. But when he'd received an urgent message from Master Yoda, Obi-Wan had known that it wasn't over.

"Has he escaped?" he asked.

"No," Mace assured him, "but we suspect that his plan has been set in motion regardless."

"In grave danger, the Chancellor is," Yoda growled, gripping his walking stick as it lay across his lap.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What can I do?"

Yoda and Mace exchanged a grim glance. "Have need of your skills, we do," Yoda told him. "The Negotiator must handle this."

"We need you to go undercover," Mace enlightened him. "As a bounty hunter. You'll join Eval's gang and report his plans back to us."

"How will the Jedi explain my absence?"

"That's where things get…complicated," Mace admitted with a cynical look. "You'll need to get yourself killed. We'll send you after a bounty hunter as soon as we can. Then you'll take his place."

"And Eval will accept him because he's killed a Jedi," Obi-Wan finished, cupping his chin in his hand.

"Exactly."

"What about Anakin? And Sabé?"

"Only the Jedi Council will know about this," said Yoda sternly.

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to find the most polite way of objecting. "That…seems cruel, Masters. To fool them like this."

"If the story is to be believed," Mace insisted, "young Skywalker's reaction must be genuine. His friendship with you is well-publicised. Nothing must seem off."

"I understand the reasoning," Obi-Wan told him with reluctant acceptance. "Anakin isn't the best at controlling his emotions. But what about Sabé? This affects her most of all."

"The same reasoning would apply to her."

"Despite the speculations they publish, the HoloNet is well aware that Sabé and I have a marriage of convenience only," Obi-Wan argued. "They won't expect the same level of reaction from her. They don't even know that we were friends before we married."

 _I don't want her to suffer through this_ , he reflected. _Considering how she really feels…I wouldn't want the galaxy to see her pain and make cruel guesses._

"Even so," Mace intoned in his customary stern drawl. "It's unwise to bring her into this plan."

"She has a right to know!" Obi-Wan said, surprisingly fiercely. "The only reason she entered into this marriage is for protection, she deserves to know that that protection isn't lost."

Mace exchanged a long look with Yoda, whose wizened face betrayed nothing of his thoughts on the matter.

"More regard for your wife, you have," Yoda mused, "than you seem to think, Obi-Wan."

"I made her a promise, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan replied simply. "I intend to keep it. It is my duty to see that she remains safe until Senator Amidala can repeal the law."

Both Yoda and Mace seemed appeased by his sound reasoning, although Obi-Wan could sense that the topic was not closed permanently.

Mace raised a slanting eyebrow. "Whether you tell her the truth or not, the rest of the galaxy will see her as a widow."

"We can draw up a document that we can both sign declaring that in the event of my death she must observe three standard months of mourning before she remarries," Obi-Wan said. "Even if this mission overruns, it certainly won't extend that long."

Yoda nodded thoughtfully. "A sound plan. But despite your marriage of convenience, watched her reaction will still be."

"Sabé is a gifted actress, Master. She once fooled many people into thinking she was the Queen of Naboo. I would not suggest it if I did not think she could handle it." Obi-Wan held Yoda's wise, scrutinising gaze and waited, confident in his arguments.

"Very well," the Jedi Master declared at length. "Right, you are, that you have a duty to her protection. But an easy path, this is not. Lie to her friends, she must."

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. "I believe she can do it. I'm confident that her gratitude in knowing that she's still safe will counter any difficulties she has in fooling those around her."

Mace closed his eyes and sighed, waving a hand. "I will trust your judgement on this, Obi-Wan. I barely know her."

"When do we put this plan into action?" he asked.

"When it is time, let you know, we will," said Yoda.

Obi-Wan bowed his head, then stood. "In that case, if you'll excuse me, Masters. I have some planning to do."

* * *

Sabé found it easy to cry over Obi-Wan's fictional death, knowing the dangers he would be stepping into in the shoes of a bounty hunter. Padmé and Gregar's distress made her feel so incredibly guilty, but she had no choice but to accept the comfort they offered her. Padmé demanded that she take the spare room, which she agreed to do. She knew it might not be safe for her to remain in her own apartment, and truthfully, she didn't want to stay there without Obi-Wan. She suspected she would feel his absence all the more if she went back there. Not knowing how long he might be away was the worst part.

In the days that followed the news of his death, Sabé went through the motions that her job required, trying to strike a balance between being upset but not heartbroken. When alone with Padmé, who knew her secret, she showed a little more emotion. She wasn't sure how much Gregar knew, but she imagined he guessed quite a lot, so she allowed herself to be more distraught around him too. It was draining work.

She and Padmé were invited to the funeral at the Jedi Temple, along with Duchess Satine, who made a special trip, Chancellor Palpatine, and a few of Obi-Wan's other non-Jedi associates. The HoloNet snapped them on their way in to the Temple, and Sabé did her best to seem subdued but calm.

The service itself was difficult to bear. It wasn't hard to imagine it might be real, especially when she was surrounded by so much genuine sorrow. Her tears slipped down her cheeks, but she maintained her composure. Duchess Satine, on the other hand, openly sobbed, and Sabé felt a fresh wave of guilt. Anakin glowered at the floor from underneath his hooded robe, a catalyst of poorly-concealed pain and anger. From Padmé's tense posture beside her, she surmised that her friend was deeply concerned about her husband's stability.

 _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all_ , Sabé pondered.

After the service, Padmé invited the mourners back to her apartment for drinks and reminiscing. The Chancellor and most of the Jedi declined her offer, but Anakin and Ahsoka accepted, joining Satine and the others.

"Lady Sabé," Mace Windu said, approaching her. "Master Yoda and I would like to talk to you about your ongoing safety."

Sabé nodded, having been expecting it. "Of course, Master Windu." To Padmé, she said, "I'll meet you back at the apartment."

Padmé furrowed her brow. "I'm not letting you travel alone."

"We will send someone to escort her," Mace Windu assured her. "You have my word."

Having no choice but to accept it, Padmé inclined her head. "Very well." She shot a look to Sabé, who tried to convey that she would be fine, then departed with her guests.

Sabé accompanied Yoda and Mace Windu through the Temple's spacious corridors, soon finding herself in a wing she'd never visited before. Mace Windu moved the doors aside with a wave of his hand, revealing a clinical, bright medical centre. Obi-Wan was there, sitting on the bed, flanked by a medical droid.

Sabé couldn't help smiling when she saw him. After all the pretence, it was a comfort to see him still alive.

"So, how was my funeral?" he asked.

"A better performance than you, your corpse gave," Yoda told him lightly.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean? I fell from the top of a building. I could have killed myself."

Sabé frowned, aware of the truth of his statement.

Yoda scrutinised him. "Survived worse, you have. Young Skywalker knows this."

"I took the vitals suppressor as instructed," Obi-Wan told him. "I was dead to the world when Anakin moved my body. There's no way he could know I was alive."

"Not know. But sense, he will, that something is not right."

Sabé didn't think that that was a bad thing, judging by Anakin's reaction to Obi-Wan's 'death'.

"You said yourself, keeping Anakin on the outside was critical," said Obi-Wan intently. "Everyone knows how close we are. It was his reaction that sold the sniper. I'm sure of it."

"What's done is done," Windu sighed.

Obi-Wan caught Sabé's gaze. "So. How _was_ the funeral? Really?"

"Horrible," she replied at once. "Seems you have a lot of people who respect and care for you. You've managed to upset all of them."

"That was quite impressive of me," he muttered, although she could tell his light tone was more for the benefit of Yoda and Mace Windu. He was troubled to have caused his friends distress. "And how are you holding up?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Me? Fine. I'm in mourning for my convenient husband."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," he said, offering a small smile.

"So am I. You know my parents want to come here?"

"Ah…sorry about that."

"Come on," Mace Windu interrupted. "We need to get your transformation underway."

Obi-Wan nodded with an air of slight reluctance. "Well, time for a shave."

At his words, the droid raised one of its arms to his head, cutting thick lines into his hair, slowly rendering him completely bald.

"Have there been any updates since I was out?" he asked.

"A few," said Windu. "As you know, we approached Eval to part with details of his plot but he was uncooperative. Since then it has emerged that the kidnapping is rumoured to take place during the festival on Naboo."

Sabé glanced at him sharply, surprised. "The Festival of Light? That's only three days from now."

"That doesn't leave you much time to gain his trust," Windu said with a frown.

"After we break out of prison together, I imagine we'll be the best of friends," Obi-Wan muttered dryly.

"Wait," Sabé said, holding up a hand, "what prison?"

"You don't think Anakin will let my murderer go free, do you?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "Well, no, but…from what I just saw of his mood back there, he's more likely to kill you than capture you."

Yoda rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Correct, you are. Ground him, his Padawan must."

"Any details that might help me gain Eval's trust while I'm in prison?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He killed his mother when he was only a boy," Windu told him. "He told the authorities he did it because he was bored."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan mused. "I'll try not to bore him."

"Not a game, is this, Obi-Wan," Yoda scolded. "The risks…great they are."

"Yes, but so are the rewards." The droid moved away, and Obi-Wan ran his hands across his bald head and smooth jaw line as he spoke. "Besides preventing Eval from abducting the Chancellor, he could lead us to Grievous. And possibly Dooku himself."

Sabé took in the strange sight of him, hairless but for his eyebrows. She'd almost forgotten what he looked like without the beard, although she preferred him with hair, given the choice.

"Facial transformation program loaded," the medical droid informed them, bringing up the details of the bounty hunter that had shot Obi-Wan on the holo screens.

"I take it there's no way to have the Chancellor pull out of the festival?" Obi-Wan asked, shifting to lie down on the bed.

"No," said Yoda at once. "See it as a sign of weakness, he would."

"Plus he's showing strong support for Naboo since the Order murders began," Sabé added.

With a put-upon sigh, Obi-Wan let the droids hold his head steady, while a syringe was aimed at his neck. Sabé winced, although she wasn't sure why.

"Transformation initiated," the droid reported.

Obi-Wan began to convulse, letting out rasping cries of pain. Sabé darted forward, but halted just shy of the bed, unsure what she could do. Fortunately, Mace Windu had also reacted, which made her feel less conspicuous.

In less than a minute, however, it was over, and Obi-Wan sat up, hands covering his face. When he lowered them, he was a different man. His face was thinner, more gaunt, his features heavier, his skin an unhealthy grey pallor. A spiralling red tattoo covered his left cheek, spreading up over his eyelid to his forehead. His eyes, although still blue, were less vibrant, and dark stubble covered his chin.

Sabé met his gaze, trying to see anything of Obi-Wan Kenobi in his face. She tried to smile, but it felt like a poor effort.

"That was unpleasant," he announced with feeling. His voice was unchanged, which was rather surreal. "How do I look?"

"Like someone who's capable of killing a Jedi," Sabé told him.

"Good."

"Need the real Rako Hardeen's clothes, you will," Yoda reminded him.

"That won't be a problem," Mace Windu said. "He's due to pick up his payment tonight."

"How long will this transformation last?" Obi-Wan asked.

"It's permanent until we initiate the reverse procedure."

Sensing that their goodbye was fast approaching, Sabé gained stronger control over her fear and concern. She had to trust that he'd be okay. They'd already worked out the details of her situation. It would be suspicious for her to have another Jedi protector without the excuse of the marriage, so she would stay with Padmé where there was safety in numbers. A Jedi would shadow her whenever she ventured outside, just in case.

"The Festival of Light will take place in the grounds of Theed Palace," she spoke up. "If you need any details about the location, let me know. I know every corner of it."

"I'll try and send word if I can."

She nodded. "I should get back to Padmé's apartment. Good luck." She wanted to say more, but was mindful of their audience.

Obi-Wan held out his arm, as if he wanted to shake her hand. A little puzzled, she stepped forward and took his hand. At once, she felt the tiny object he was pressing into her palm. Her eyes met his changed ones, his gaze intense.

"Be safe," he said simply.

"You too."

"I'll do my best."

Sabé slipped her hand out of his, curling her fingers around the object. She nodded to Yoda and Mace Windu, both of whom nodded back without showing any suspicion over what had just happened.

"Master Secura will escort you back to Senator Amidala's apartment," Mace Windu told her.

"Thank you, Master Windu." Obi-Wan's parting gift held securely in her fist, Sabé took a moment to school her expression into one of grief. It wasn't difficult to do. Then she headed out into the corridor.

* * *

Spending time with the mourners was difficult, especially considering that all Sabé wanted to do was listen to Obi-Wan's message. The object he'd passed her was a holo chip, but she hadn't found a single peaceful moment to play it. She was not surprised when Anakin and Ahsoka left early, knowing that they'd no doubt had word from Mace Windu. By now, the real Rako Hardeen was in Jedi custody, Obi-Wan firmly in his place.

She sat and watched the chrono until she could excuse herself and go to her room. Padmé didn't question her strangely-early night, for which she was thankful. Blissfully alone, she locked the door and slipped the chip into her holo reader. Obi-Wan's figure materialised before her.

"Sabé," he began. "By the time you see this, I'll no doubt be playing the part of someone else. I hope everything is going well. I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I have faith in your abilities. When I can, I will contact the Temple to update them on the mission's progress. My com's frequency is 164.42. Don't contact me, but please tune your headset to this frequency only. That way, I can get in touch with you if I need to." His image hesitated, looking a little uncertain. "The Council doesn't want me giving you this information, but… Let's just say, I've been led to believe I know better on this one. I've asked Master Yoda to bring you in after the funeral. Hopefully, I can slip this chip to you then. In the meantime, stay vigilant. I know you will. I'll see you soon." The image flickered and vanished.

Sabé sighed, removing the chip and snapping it in half before she was tempted to keep it. She reached for her com, changing the settings and slipping it into her ear. It was silly, but she felt better for it, as if she had some kind of tie to him, wherever he was.

 _Now all I have to do is wait_ , she told herself. What an impossible task it seemed to be.

* * *

All the guests had gone by the time Anakin returned to the apartment. Padmé was still up. She'd anticipated that he would come. He needed her support, she could see that quite clearly.

"He's in jail," he muttered to her in place of a greeting.

Padmé tried to curb her surprise that Anakin hadn't killed the man then and there. "That's good," she said simply.

"Is it?" he snapped, turning to her, the pain twisting his features. "It's more than he deserves. If it were up to me…but…that's not what Obi-Wan would have done."

"No," she agreed, pleased to hear about what he'd done and why.

"How is Sabé?" he asked.

"She's upset, but she'll be fine. He was her friend for a long time. We'll all miss him." She felt a wave of sorrow, partly her own pain, partly compassion for Anakin and Sabé, who she knew were suffering far worse than they were letting on.

"He was the best man I ever knew," Anakin said, his voice cracking. "How am I supposed to go on without his guidance?"

"He'll always be with you," Padmé soothed, rubbing his back. "The Jedi believe in the living Force, don't they? So he'll always be a part of you."

"But I don't _feel_ him anywhere?" Anakin burst out. "It's like…he's just…gone. When my mother passed it was tough," he said quietly. "But eventually I felt like there was closure there. This…isn't enough."

Padmé fell silent, well aware that the closure he spoke of had been the slaughter of an entire village of Tusken Raiders.

"Not every death is the same," she told him gently. "It will get easier, I promise you."

Anakin said nothing, staring at the floor as Padmé traced patterns on his back. She wasn't sure how long they sat like that.

"I should get back to the Temple," he said eventually, sighing as if he had the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything."

He managed a watery smile, raising a hand to her cheek. "You've already done plenty."

Padmé tried to smile too, covering his hand with her own. "Go on, go and get some rest. I'll see you soon."

"I love you."

She nodded. "So you should," she replied.

Anakin grinned tiredly, bidding her goodnight before leaving. Padmé drew her legs up under her chin, sitting there in the dark for a long while before she stirred herself into moving upstairs. She had a Senate session to attend tomorrow. She hoped and prayed that Sabé would be up to it.

* * *

Padmé and her entourage were waiting for their speeder outside the Senate, having just sat through three hours of bickering. Sabé and Teckla were flanking her, their dusky purple gowns complimenting Padmé's dress of sleek blue-grey silk. Padmé was busy chatting to Senator Organa, going over some of the major points raised in the session. Gregar stood beside her, keeping an eye out for their ride, two of his officers stationed at an unobtrusive distance. Sabé was happy just to stand in the fresh air. She had a pounding headache, but it was strangely freeing. Everyone seemed to put her quiet mood down to grief.

"Excuse me," came an unfamiliar voice at Sabé's back.

She turned, Teckla mirroring her move, discreetly letting the vibroblade in her sleeve slip down into her palm.

"Can I help you?" Sabé asked politely.

The speaker was a young human woman, about Padmé's age, willowy and slim with close-cropped black hair and deep brown eyes accentuated by dark make-up. Her boots and leggings were smart but functional, and she wore a flowing cream tunic cinched with a practical belt that had seen better days. The tunic was loose enough to conceal small weapons.

"Is Moteé with you?" the woman wanted to know.

"No," Sabé told her. "Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of hers. My name is Nadini."

"Are you the one she's been visiting?" asked Teckla suspiciously. "She told us you were sick."

"I was," Nadini said.

Sabé tightened her grip on her vibroblade, keeping her hand out of the woman's line of sight. "We were given to understand that your illness was incurable."

Nadini dropped her gaze awkwardly, adding quietly, "It is. It…comes and goes. On good days I like to get out of the house." She glanced up, pasting on a small smile. "I was hoping Moteé could meet me for lunch."

Neither Sabé nor Teckla said it, but they were both aware that Moteé had told them she was making another visit that morning. Either Moteé was lying, or Nadini wasn't who she claimed to be.

"She's working," Sabé said. "But we'll tell her you asked after her."

Nadini gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that. I won't keep you any longer." She nodded to them both, spun on her heel and sauntered off in the direction of the Senate building.

Sabé exchanged a glance with Teckla, whose expression betrayed her wariness.

"Guess we need to speak to Moteé," she spoke up.

Sabé nodded in agreement. "Something is definitely amiss."

"Are you two coming?"

They turned, seeing that Padmé's speeder had arrived and the senator was already boarding.

"Sorry, M'lady," Teckla apologised, hurrying to join her.

"What was all that about?" Gregar asked as Sabé approached the vehicle.

"Tell you later."

Back at the apartment, there was nothing to do but continue with the day's chores and wait for Moteé to return. Padmé spoke to Jago and Luma over the com, and Teckla sat in to take notes. While they were there, Sabé relayed everything to Gregar, who agreed that the encounter with Nadini was unusual to say the least. Moteé was not due back until evening.

Sabé was on kitchen duty for dinner that day. Padmé had wanted to lessen her duties, but Sabé insisted on being kept busy. As See-Threepio bustled around her, taking crockery to the dining room, Gregar appeared in the doorway. Sabé noted his expression at once. A dart of cold dread shot through her heart.

"No," she muttered.

He looked at her with compassion, saying gently, "There's been another murder. A young lady named Keelé. She arrived here this morning from Corellia and was killed earlier this afternoon at her hotel. A service droid found her."

Sabé swallowed, her mouth dry. "And…Daedrin?"

"At the Senate most of the day. It was the accomplice."

She had run out of things to say that she had not already said.

"Just when we thought it had died down," Gregar sighed.

"We never thought it had ended, though," Sabé pointed out.

"True. I'll let Padmé know when she's done with her conference call. Moteé should be back by then too."

There was a beat of silence, then Sabé and Gregar glanced up at each other, both wearing the same wide-eyed look of disbelief. Sabé and Moteé didn't always get along, but she didn't want to believe that a fellow handmaiden could turn against the Order. There was no denying that the circumstances were suspicious, however.

"I don't want to think it of her," Sabé said, wrapping her arms around herself, "and on a planet this populated, it seems absurd to think that the answer is on our doorstep, but…"

"We can't rule it out," Gregar finished for her.

"No."

"She should be back soon," he said, looking at his chrono, "we can confront her then. Gods know, I don't want to have to do this, but we'd be remiss if we didn't."

"You'd better have some officers standing by. Just in case. She's one of the best warriors I've ever seen."

"Agreed."

But it was not to be. Not fifteen minutes later, the HoloNet exploded with the news of a mass prison break. Among the prisoners missing: Moralo Eval, Cad Bane and Rako Hardeen. Sabé was not personally familiar with Bane, but she'd heard enough to know that his escape meant trouble. The com in her ear stayed irritatingly silent.

Anakin arrived at the apartment before Moteé, insisting on ranting at Padmé, who did her best to soothe him. In a glance, Sabé and Gregar silently agreed that Moteé could wait. They'd just keep an eye on her until the right moment arrived.


	21. A Chaotic Festival

**A/N:** Continuing with the Clone Wars storylines, with a few minor changes for funsies.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-One – A Chaotic Festival.**

"And there's a handwritten letter here from the people in…I can't read this…oh, the villages in the Gallo province. They say the limitations on their water rationing are becoming…uh, to be honest, M'lady, they haven't put it very politely. Needless to say, they're not happy."

Padmé nodded, pressing her fingertips to her eyes to try and bully her headache into submission. "Thank you, Jago, I've heard that from other sources too." Lowering her hands, she glanced back at the holo projections of her Theed correspondents. "I don't know what they think I can do about it, though," she said helplessly. "Every planet in the Republic is making financial sacrifices. These are the unfortunate results. I don't like it, but I have no solution."

Luma made a note on her data pad. "We'll try and explain that as sympathetically as possible, M'lady."

"Good. The least we can give them is sympathy." She checked her chrono. "Was there anything else?"

"Nothing that can't wait, M'lady," Jago assured her. "Everything is ready for your arrival here this evening."

Padmé managed a grateful smile. "Thank you. We'll be on our way as soon as today's session is over."

Luma spoke up with uncustomary self-consciousness. "Um…is our daughter still accompanying you?"

"Yes, of course. Why?"

"She demanded we stay away after the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Padmé nodded in understanding. "I'm sure that was just because she knew we'd be flying home for the festival. She probably didn't want you to have to come here just to go straight back."

Luma seemed slightly appeased. "We hoped that was the case. She's shut us out before, though." Appearing to sense Padmé's discomfort at being caught between Sabé and her parents, Luma added, "Well, we look forward to seeing you later, M'lady. Have a safe trip."

"Thank you, both."

They signed off. Padmé spent some time filing her notes, her heart sinking at the number of reports she had about insufficient supplies back home. Thank the gods that the Festival of Light was a relatively inexpensive event, one that brought hope and raised morale more than anything more material.

She summoned Moteé to bring her a cup of caf. She had a lot to sift through before they were due to leave for the Senate. Moteé brought the tray up right away. Padmé noticed she was looking a little pale and stressed, but chose to keep her thoughts to herself. They all had their own stresses these days.

"Have you seen Sabé?" she asked her, accepting the caf.

"She's in her room packing, M'lady," Moteé replied. "Shall I fetch her?"

"No, that's okay," Padmé said, wrapping her hands around the cup's warmth. "She needs to get that done. I'll speak to her later. Thank you, Moteé."

Moteé bowed and left her alone. Padmé reflected on her unhappy friend, hoping she was up to attending the festival. She'd asked to be kept busy, but asking her to attend a joyful occasion seemed cruel somehow. Still, she had to trust Sabé to know what she was capable of. She knew Anakin was dealing with his grief in the only way he knew how: chasing down those responsible for it. He'd told her what he was doing, adding that it was without the knowledge of the Jedi Council. Padmé wasn't sure what to think. Hunting down Rako Hardeen was hardly the wisest course of action, but Anakin had a keen sense of revenge. Justice, he called it, but she knew what it truly was. She was only glad that Ahsoka had gone with him.

Sabé's reaction to the news had been strange. She'd looked concerned, but if Padmé didn't know better, she could have sworn that the concern was not for Anakin but rather those he sought.

Sipping her caf, Padmé pulled her thoughts away from Anakin and Sabé. If she didn't get her work done, she'd never leave Coruscant on time.

* * *

Sabé was busy stuffing items into her suitcase when the com in her ear suddenly crackled. Startled, she dropped her make-up bag, spilling items all over the floor.

"Sabé? Are you there?" The voice was rasping, unfamiliar, speaking with the wrong accent, but she knew who it had to be.

"Yes! Yes, I'm here," she said at once, falling to her knees to pick up her cosmetics. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Where are you?"

"Um…in the fresher, actually. It's the only place I can be alone."

She laughed at that, mostly in relief that he was still alive. "Gods. It's good to hear from you."

"Likewise," he said. "I don't have much time. We're on our way to Serreno, to meet with Count Dooku. I believe I'll need to prove my worth before they trust me with the plan for tomorrow."

"You're meeting with another Force user? Is that safe?"

"I'll be careful," he retorted at once. It was the only option, after all. "When are you heading to Naboo?"

"Tonight, after the Senate session," Sabé answered, reaching under the bed for a stray lipstick.

"I need you to scout out the location for me. I'm not going to have time to do it myself. Let me know if anything seems amiss."

"Will do," she promised. "Will you contact me?"

"When I can. I also need to speak to Master Windu, but that's a little more problematic."

"Why?"

"If they trace the signal somehow, there's no way I can explain contacting the Temple. But with you, I can simply say that I've been talking to my lover."

Sabé saw the sense in it, but she blushed a little at the thought of the truth of the statement.

"Fair enough," she said, keeping her voice level.

"I should go," he muttered. "You should be aware, Anakin knows I'm alive."

Sabé's eyes widened. "He does? Since when?"

"About half an hour ago. He'll be on his way back to Coruscant by now. No doubt he'll tell Padmé."

"Okay. Thanks for the warning."

"I'll talk to you when I can," he told her.

"All right. Be careful." She bit her lip, afraid for him.

"I will." With a faint crackle, he cut the channel.

Sabé sighed, still sitting on her bedroom floor, her cosmetics safely back in their bag. The fear was her constant shadow. She spent half of her time trying to ignore it, trying not to let it warp her imagination out of control. She knew she could easily think up multiple terrible situations that Obi-Wan might be facing.

 _Stop it_ , she told herself firmly, getting clumsily to her feet and depositing the make-up bag in the suitcase. She had hours to go before they left for Naboo. Until then, she just had to sit tight.

* * *

Padmé was picking up some data pads from her office at the Senate when Anakin burst into the room, making her jump.

"Gods, Anakin!" she exclaimed. "What's gotten into you?" She took in his expression of fury, her heart sinking. Turning to the others, she said calmly, "Could we have the room, please?"

The handmaidens nodded as one, heading for the door.

"Not Sabé," said Anakin brusquely.

Sabé halted, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. She said nothing, simply falling back as the others left, the door sliding shut behind them. Padmé wondered if her husband was there to tell them he'd killed Obi-Wan's murderer.

Anakin watched the door close, then turned to her, saying hurriedly, "He's alive. Obi-Wan's alive. He's undercover as Hardeen."

Padmé's face broke out into a wide smile. "That's wonderful!" she cried, beaming at Sabé.

Sabé smiled too, but it was more reserved. In that instant, Padmé realised that Sabé had known all along. Her smile faltered.

"Sabé?"

Sabé looked awkwardly guilty, meeting her gaze. "I…" She sighed. "I wasn't permitted to say anything."

Anakin rounded on her. "You _knew?_ " he said incredulously.

"Yes, Anakin," she replied, her voice quiet. "They didn't want me to, Obi-Wan argued it."

"Why?" His question was as sharp and quick as a blade.

Wearily, she tried to explain it. "Obi-Wan felt it was his duty to inform me that I was still safe, seeing as his main assignment is to protect me."

"What about me?" Anakin yelled. "I'm supposed to be his best friend! He couldn't even let me know he was okay?"

Padmé stepped in, ever the peacemaker. "Our reactions must have been what sold the illusion."

Sabé nodded wordlessly.

Anakin turned his glowering gaze on her. "We could have faked it. If _she_ could, then why not me?"

"The Jedi Council always has its reasons, Anakin," Padmé told him softly.

"They don't trust me," he barked, jabbing a finger in Sabé's direction, "but they trust _her_? How can you even think that's right?"

Sabé raised her eyebrows, looking mildly affronted, and Padmé fixed him with a frown.

Fractionally calming, Anakin glanced back at Sabé. "Look, no offence," he said ineptly. "But…the way they treat me isn't fair."

"But Padmé is right," Sabé said coolly, "they _do_ have their reasons. Do you have any idea how unwilling they were to let me know? If Obi-Wan wasn't so duty-bound, they would never–"

"Ugh, it doesn't matter," Anakin interrupted, throwing up his hands. "I just wanted to tell you both not to worry, but it seems I'm two days too late. If you'll excuse me, I have to speak to the Council."

Padmé inwardly sighed, placing her palms flat on her desk. "I'll see you on Naboo," she said to his back, "when you escort the Chancellor."

"Yeah," he muttered. "See you then." The door slid closed behind him.

Padmé pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long breath. "This can't go on," she murmured. "We meet five times, we argue for three of them."

Sabé said nothing. Padmé knew her opinion anyway. It would do no good to hear it repeated.

"I understand why you couldn't say anything," she told her friend. "I don't like it, but I understand it."

"I didn't like it either," Sabé assured her. "And that's an understatement. But…it was necessary."

Padmé nodded. That was life, especially in war time.

"Come on, we've got a ship to catch," she said. "Let's just hope that whatever Obi-Wan is doing pays off."

* * *

Sabé slipped away from the others once they reached Theed, keen to check out the place where the festival would be held. It was a circular outdoor stage not far from the small temple in the palace grounds. It was most often used for open air plays for the amusement of the reigning monarch, or medal presentations for the security forces. In the light of day, devoid of people and props, it seemed fairly harmless. But it was also open and exposed, and like all outdoor locations, a nightmare for the security team.

The com in her right ear buzzed.

"Typho to Sabé, do you copy?"

"Sabé here," she answered.

"Where are you?" He sounded exasperated.

"Just checking out the stage for tomorrow," she said honestly. "Why?"

"Your parents are looking for you."

Sabé rolled her eyes. "Of course they are. I'll be right there. Just…charm them or something."

Gregar gave a snort. "Yeah right. Just get your ass back here pronto."

"Will do," she promised. "And the rest of me too."

"Typho out."

Sabé searched the multitude of windows and balconies that looked down on the stage, frowning to herself. A security shield for the main area was all very well, but still it was vulnerable. Shields could be deactivated, after all.

She sighed, beginning the walk back. As usual, the com in her left ear remained silent.

* * *

The following day passed agonisingly slowly. The Chancellor arrived in the early afternoon, accompanied by Anakin, Ahsoka, and Mace Windu. Anakin was still stony-faced, but he seemed calmer, something for which they were all grateful. Sabé stood diligently on duty throughout the day, waiting for Obi-Wan to contact her, but there was nothing.

Two hours before the start of the festival, she was starting to get anxious. And then, mercifully, her com gave a subtle beep.

Bending to whisper in Padmé's ear, she excused herself and left the formal gathering of Queen Neeyutnee's guests. Once safely alone, she activated the com.

"Yes?" she said breathlessly, jogging down the palace corridors.

"Hi, dollface," came Rako Hardeen's drawl.

Her surprise slowed her down for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted you to know that I'm finishing up a job. Should be home by tomorrow."

Figuring out what Obi-Wan was doing, she said, "Is that relevant?" She gave him a moment to reply, then added, "Or are you just selling the illusion?"

"Yeah," he answered at once. "Can't wait to see you either. Did you get that thing I asked for?"

"Yes. It's a horrible location to cover, but there should be plenty of guards around."

"You're the best."

She couldn't help but smile at the bizarre conversation. It was difficult to imagine Obi-Wan saying any of it. "Are you being listened to?" she asked.

"Not sure yet."

"Any way you can tell me the plan?"

"I can't do that, baby," he said, sounding disappointed.

Sabé wrinkled her nose at the term of endearment. It sounded all wrong.

"I wish you were here too," he went on. "I got a pretty great view right now, but you'd definitely improve things."

"Okay," she surmised, thinking quickly, "so…you're somewhere overlooking the plaza?"

"Definitely."

"Any more help would be appreciated," she told him. "There are a dozen places where you could be."

His voice took on a playful tone. "Aww come on, you can't distract me like that. I got a job to do, can't have some _goddess_ taking my mind off it, can I?"

"You're in the temple?" she guessed, hearing the way he subtly stressed the key words.

"Nah, it would be the _opposite_ to that."

Grinning, Sabé said, "You're in the tower opposite the temple."

"Yeah."

"I'm on my way."

"Look, I gotta go, doll. We'll catch up when I get back, okay?"

"All right, don't overdo it," she scolded lightly as she ran.

"You too. Bye."

Unsure exactly where Eval's men might be, Sabé slipped into the first secret passage she came to, taking the dusty, labyrinthine paths up to the tower. There was nowhere that the network of tunnels did _not_ go, and she was thankful for her extensive knowledge of them. She emerged at the bottom of the stairs, racing up them two at a time. Obi-Wan was waiting for her outside the topmost room. For a split second she was startled, having almost forgotten what he looked like. He put a finger to his lips before she could say a word, beckoning her closer. He moved until they were toe to toe, and she looked at him with startled eyes, wondering if his play acting on the com had gone to his head. Pushing back her hood, he leaned forward as if to kiss her neck and she felt her heartbeat speed up, her mouth going dry. He may look different, but he was still Obi-Wan Kenobi, and she couldn't help noticing that he smelled the same.

His breath was warm on her skin as he whispered in her ear, so softly it barely qualified as a whisper. "I might be bugged. I don't want to take any chances."

Sabé nodded.

"There are six of us, including Eval," he went on. "He's the getaway driver. The others are in charge of deactivating the shield and kidnapping the Chancellor."

"What about you?" she breathed.

"I'm tasked with immobilising the Chancellor with a stun round. Three of the bounty hunters are armed with holographic disguises. They'll appear as Senate guards. Get to Mace Windu, let him know to double check everyone's identity. And keep an eye on the shield generator. I'm not sure it would be wise for me to break cover even at this point."

"Consider it done."

"Above all, bear in mind that Dooku is here somewhere," he told her, breath tickling her neck. "He's due to meet us at a rendezvous point after we have the Chancellor, but the devices we've been given won't tell us where until the right moment."

Sabé nodded again. "I'll tell Master Windu."

She felt him nod in return. "Good luck."

"You too," she said, smiling impishly as she added, "…dollface."

He drew back to send her an unamused look. She simply smirked benevolently, raising her eyebrows. She trotted back down the stairs, darting through the passages back to where she'd left Padmé. Anakin had assigned Ahsoka as the senator's personal bodyguard, and the Togruta teenager had been following them around all afternoon.

The Queen's guests were engaging in an informal drinks party when she reached them, so nobody really noticed as she entered the room at a jog, skidding to a halt at Padmé's side.

"There you are!" her friend said, bemused. "Where have you been?"

"Doesn't matter," Sabé panted, turning to Ahsoka. "Padawan Tano, do you know where I can find Master Windu?"

"Last I heard he was scoping out the stage," Ahsoka replied, looking at her curiously.

"Sabé, what are you up to?" Padmé addressed her sternly.

"Don't ask. I'll be back." She took off again, passing Luma on her way out the door.

"Syrena!"

"Not now, Mother."

She found Mace Windu giving orders to the guards, and she slowed to a walk before she approached him.

"Can I help you, Lady Sabé?" he asked, his countenance its usual mixture of sternness and cool detachment, coupled with the faint air of distrust that she often picked up from him.

"No," she said lightly, ignoring it, "but I can help you. Might I have a word?"

Waving the guards away, he led her over to the railing looking out over the waterfall and forest, far below.

In a low voice, she relayed everything Obi-Wan had said, making sure to include his reasoning for not contacting the Jedi directly. Windu took it all in with a keen expression.

"Okay," he said when she was finished. "Leave it with me. Let me know if he contacts you again."

"Of course." She dipped him a quick bow before heading back inside. As she crossed the plaza, she could not help flicking her eyes up at the tower where she knew Obi-Wan was waiting, knowing that her hood would shade her face from any observers. She couldn't see anything amiss, but she felt sure his gaze was on her all the same.

Her other com beeped again, demanding attention.

"Sabé here," she answered.

"This is Typho. Where–"

"I'm coming back now," she cut him off wearily.

"Sabé, _what_ are you doing?"

"Gregar," she said in a warning tone, "you know better than to ask that kind of question, considering."

She knew he'd understand her cryptic words, especially now that he was updated on the basics of Obi-Wan's mission.

"Right," she heard him sigh.

"I'm behind you," she said, signing off, seeing him standing in the doorway ahead of her.

He turned, throwing his arms up in a kind of helpless gesture. "Should I be worried?" he asked her as she drew closer.

"No."

"You sound very sure."

"Padmé isn't the target," she reminded him. "And I'm not involved in any plan, I'm just…the messenger."

Shrugging, looking as if he was giving up, he moved to go back inside. "Well, come on then, messenger. You're supposed to be on duty."

"Yes…sorry."

As they walked through the corridors, he hissed at her, "Is he okay?"

Shooting him a sidelong glance, she nodded. "For now."

* * *

Darkness fell within the hour, and soon Queen Neeyutnee and Chancellor Palpatine were leading the procession of dignitaries outside to the plaza. Padmé walked with Bail Organa and Governor Sio Bibble, their respective retinues following on behind. Everyone took their places on the tiered seats around the perimeter of the stage. The Chancellor walked to the podium in the centre, looking a curious mix of stubborn, confident, and a touch wary.

Once everyone was settled, the ray shield was activated, a smooth, transparent blue bubble encasing everyone inside the circle of the stage. Sabé noted the position of the Jedi and the guards, a combination of personnel from the palace and the Senate. Annoyingly, from her seat behind Padmé, she had her back to Obi-Wan. She had managed to find a moment to inform Padmé that she might have to take off, and her friend had simply rolled her eyes before agreeing.

"It is an honour to be here on this momentous occasion," Palpatine began, drawing her attention.

Temporary platforms full of guests hovered on the outside of the ray shield, a guard or two spaced among them.

"The pride I feel for this planet cannot be put into words. Eight-hundred and forty-seven years ago, Naboo joined the Republic, and tonight we celebrate that union."

The audience clapped, and Sabé automatically joined in, keeping her eyes peeled.

"Take a moment and look around this glorious city of yours," the Chancellor continued. "It wasn't long ago this was all plasma mines. Naboo has indeed come a long way. But as we chart a bold course for the future, let us never forget our past!"

Tapping a few switches on the podium, the Chancellor turned to the sky, arms raised. Fireworks split the night asunder, filling the area with coloured light while ceremonial music played. All heads looked upwards, except, Sabé noted, the Jedi, most of the guards, and her.

"Sabé," came Obi-Wan's false voice in her ear. "East side! The security guard on the stairs!"

Sabé leapt to her feet, drawing an annoyed cry from the man behind her. "Anakin!" she yelled. "The shield generator!"

At her words, he shot into action, running across the plaza towards the bounty hunter who was somehow managing to reach an arm through the ray shield. With a yank of wires, he rendered it useless and it exploded, knocking Anakin and Palpatine off their feet. The shield fizzled out. As one, the audience got to their feet, gasping and talking amongst themselves. Mace Windu rushed to the fallen Chancellor, giving orders to the guards, while Ahsoka directed the Queen and the dignitaries to safety.

"Sabé, go with them," Obi-Wan ordered her, evidently seeing her hesitate. "I'll speak directly to Mace."

Biting down her instinct to argue, Sabé agreed, knowing she was doing so purely to give him peace of mind. She picked up her skirts and hurried after Padmé and the others. Ahsoka barricaded them into the room they'd been socialising in beforehand, lightsabers poised but not activated. Sabé was the last one in, and Padmé, Gregar and her parents looked pleased to see her there.

Ahsoka studied her with an appraising look that made her seem older than her years. "You've been in contact with Obi-Wan, haven't you?" she said. "That's why you called to Anakin."

"Yes," Sabé admitted. "He thought contacting me would be easier to explain away if he got caught. I could have played the part of Rako Hardeen's girlfriend."

Ahsoka nodded thoughtfully. "He can always be counted on to think three steps ahead."

Jago broke through the crowd, Luma at his side. "Syrena," he said tiredly, "do you want to explain exactly _what_ is going on?"

Realising that she really couldn't escape it this time, Sabé reluctantly nodded. "All right, all right."

* * *

Bone tired and utterly fed up of life as Rako Hardeen, Obi-Wan was grateful to escort Chancellor Palpatine back to the palace with Anakin and Mace. He was greeted by a sea of familiar faces when they got there: Queen Neeyutnee, Sio Bibble, Jar Jar Binks, Bail Organa, Jago, Luma, Gregar, Padmé, Moteé, Teckla, Ahsoka. They all blurred before him, but for one that stood out: Sabé, hovering behind Padmé, looking as if she was trying very hard to temper her relief at seeing him unhurt.

He wanted nothing more than to sleep, to spend some time alone without looking over his shoulder, but the Queen insisted on all the Jedi joining them for dinner so she could hear their story. Of course, he was the one doing most of the telling. Anakin glared his way through a lot of it, but there was more understanding in his expression than Obi-Wan would have expected. No doubt he'd vented his annoyance at being left out already.

"The bounty hunters were evidently expecting Count Dooku to show up," Mace Windu was saying, now that they had reached the point in the story where he could step in. "He didn't. We assume he got a tip-off and fled."

"That probably happened when I compromised my cover," Obi-Wan surmised. "It seemed a wise decision at the time."

"I certainly cannot argue with the results, Master Kenobi," Chancellor Palpatine put in.

Obi-Wan acknowledged his words with a bow of his head. His eyes sought Sabé's. She stood at the sidelines with Moteé and Teckla, beside five silent handmaidens of the Queen's. She offered him a tiny smile, her expression seeming to indicate that she was sympathetic to how he was feeling.

He took a sip of wine, feeling it pass uncomfortably over the vocal emulator in his throat. He really needed to take it out, but there hadn't been an opportunity so far. It wasn't something one could do at the dinner table, especially in the presence of royalty.

The rest of the evening passed by at a steady, if not exactly fast, pace, and Obi-Wan found himself finally being escorted to a guest room. His first course of action was to extract the emulator, trying not to gag as it crawled its way up and out of his mouth. He cleared his throat, speaking a few words aloud to adjust.

Sitting gratefully down on the bed, he thought of Sabé and how they had barely been able to exchange two words to each other since the kidnap attempt. He found he very much wanted to speak to her, to let her ground him, to let her remind him that he could be himself again. It had been a very long three days. He'd sensed some traces of unease from the guests at dinner. Clearly it was surreal for them to see someone else in his place, to hear his words from someone else's voice. Sabé had never stopped seeing him as him, once she'd got over the initial shock. He'd sensed her reaction when he'd whispered the plan to her. It had been unwise to move so close to her, considering, but he'd had no choice. Sabé was a consummate professional, of course, but she was still human. She'd reacted to his proximity despite his disguise.

He remembered the scent of her hair, the fresh fragrance of her shampoo, and the warmth of her cheek almost touching his. He'd heard her soft intake of breath as he drew closer. He'd put it out of his mind. It was safer that way.

 _Your thoughts betray you_ , he told himself, as he'd once told Anakin.

Obi-Wan recalled his answer to Satine when she'd asked him that loaded question. _"Do you love her?" "I don't know."_ He suspected that truthfully, deep down, the answer to that question was becoming more definite. He'd been falling for some time, deeper than he could have imagined.

 _You're such a hypocrite, Kenobi_.

He sensed a discomforting ripple in the Force, as if it didn't like him berating himself. That was confusing, to say the least, since he'd thought he was trying to abide by the Code. Closing his eyes, he reached out to it, feeling it swirling around him like dust particles glistening in sunlight.

 _I don't understand. Please show me what you want from me._

There was no definitive answer, of course. The Force didn't work that way. Obi-Wan hoped that the truth would come to him in time. And in the meantime...he still wanted to talk to Sabé. With a burst of inspiration, he remembered the com in his ear, patching it to her frequency.

Within a few moments, she answered. "Obi-Wan? Gods, you scared me. Somehow I'd forgotten I was still wearing this thing. Not sure how, it's hardly comfortable."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry to alarm you."

"Oh, it's good to hear your voice," she exclaimed.

He could picture her smile. "It's good to have it back. Vocal emulators are not fun."

"I can imagine," she said with feeling. "Handy tech, though. I wish we'd had them back in the decoy days."

"Your mimicry was perfect," he complimented her warmly.

"Why thank you," she replied, her tone playful despite the formal-sounding words. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he told her truthfully. "I didn't think it would be appropriate to sneak in and do so in person."

She laughed. "I love that you think of propriety after we've been married all this time."

"You know what I mean," he grumbled, although he was not really annoyed.

"I do," she admitted, still sounding amused. "Are you okay?"

He took a breath, thinking back over everything he'd been through, everything he'd had to do to maintain his cover. "Yes, I think so."

"Good," Sabé said simply. He suspected she felt it more keenly than the single word implied.

"How about you?" he asked. "You heard about my exploits over dinner but I haven't heard yours."

"Not sure 'exploits' is the right word," she ruminated. "But I do have a few things to report."

In a worried tone, she told him how she and Teckla had met a strange woman outside the Senate, which now led herself and Gregar to suspect Moteé of lying about something. She explained about the latest murder, which had occurred the same day, and Daedrin's alibi, sounding exasperated that the Jedi Council still hadn't done anything to stop him. Obi-Wan understood her frustration, but the situation was delicate. Daedrin was a favourite of Palpatine's, and the relationship between the Chancellor and the Jedi was tenuous at best. The Republic needed the Jedi as much as it needed the Chancellor, and it needed them to work together. There was more at stake than just the lives of the Order of Sanctuary, however harsh it seemed. Sabé grasped that, he knew, but the losses pained her all the same.

"How did this woman react when you mentioned that she was supposed to have an incurable illness?" he asked.

"She was…embarrassed," Sabé told him. "Awkward, saddened. A…normal reaction, I guess. If it were me, I wouldn't want to talk about it with strangers either."

Curious, he said, "What does your instinct tell you?"

Sabé paused for a moment, apparently considering her answer. "Moteé is hiding something. But…whether it's this? I don't know. We could be jumping to conclusions because we want answers."

"Have you talked to her?"

"No," she replied at once. "Things kicked off, there was no time."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose it will keep until we get back."

"Yes," Sabé agreed. After a brief silence, she changed the subject. "So, when are you becoming you again?"

"When we get back to the Temple," Obi-Wan said, running a hand over his bald head. "I'm looking forward to it, I must admit. Being a criminal is exhausting."

"Yes, and I'm not sure about that tattoo."

"Oh, really?" He dropped a touch of regret into his tone. "I was thinking about getting it done when I'm back to normal."

"Well," she said, sounding disapproving, "good luck explaining that one to the Council."

He let out a short laugh. "Lady Sabé, I'm disappointed at your lack of faith in me."

"Master Kenobi, you mistake me," she retorted, her smile evident in her voice. "You are the Negotiator, after all, and that takes a lot of skill, does it not? Dollface."

He groaned. "Are you ever going to let that go?"

"No," she said succinctly, sounding rather pleased with herself, "no, I'm not."

Obi-Wan sighed, but he was smiling. "Just be thankful," he told her. "There are many names a lot worse than that one."

"That's a good point," she conceded.

He heard her stifle a yawn. "Get some sleep," he said. "I'll see you in the morning."

She yielded without argument. "Okay. Same goes for you."

"Good night. And thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," she said warmly. "Good night."

Obi-Wan signed off, pulling the com from his ear. In the sudden silence, it was difficult not to dwell on how much the conversation had improved his mood.

 _That's what friends do_ , he reminded himself.

But he knew that Sabé was more than that. She would always be more than that.

* * *

 **A/N:** I've never entirely understood why Bail Organa was present at a Naboo festival, but I wouldn't begrudge him an evening out. Also, in the original episode, Obi-Wan maintains the vocal emulator until the end, even though a lot of time has passed and he doesn't need it anymore. I thought I'd make it more comfortable for him.


	22. Secrets and Consequences

**A/N:** Guys, I have one week left at a job I hate! I may post another chapter next weekend to celebrate. We'll see.

More Clone Wars content and dialogue in the first half of this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Two – Secrets and Consequences.**

The following morning, the Chancellor sent all the excess security staff back to Coruscant ahead of him, a decision that Mace Windu counselled against. But Palpatine would not be dissuaded, claiming that Anakin was all the security he required now that the threat was over. Mace had no choice but to accept it, but it was plain to see that he was not happy.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had a chance to catch up after lunch, taking a walk around the palace grounds while arrangements were made to travel back.

"When are you going to change back?" Anakin asked as they went. "This is…all kinds of wrong."

"Oh, trust me," he replied sincerely, "it will be one of the first things I do when I get to the Temple. It will be a relief to shed the skin of Rako Hardeen."

"If I'd known what was going on, I could have helped you," Anakin said, frowning. "Too bad the Council didn't trust me."

Obi-Wan studied him, startled, although, he supposed his old Padawan wasn't wrong. The Council didn't trust the flimsy hold Anakin had over his emotions. If he was being brutally honest with himself, Obi-Wan didn't trust it either. He wished it was otherwise. He'd tried, but some things simply could not be taught, and Anakin was incapable of being anything other than he was.

"Anakin, you can't just blame the Council," Obi-Wan told him gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It was also my decision to keep the truth from you. I knew that if you were convinced I was dead, Dooku would believe it as well."

"Your decision?" Anakin repeated, rounding on him, incredulous and indignant.

"Look, I know I did some questionable things, but I did what I had to do," Obi-Wan said firmly. "I hope you can understand that." And he did. He hoped it fervently, because if Anakin couldn't understand _that_ , he was wasting his time.

"You lied to me," Anakin snapped. "How many other lies have I been told by the Council? And how do you know that _you_ even have the whole truth?" Without waiting for an answer, he stormed off back towards the palace.

Obi-Wan sighed deeply, folding his arms. There was an uncomfortable element of accuracy in Anakin's words. But it was a rare being who agreed with absolutely everything the Jedi stood for. There were always things that sparked doubt and reassessment, but overall Obi-Wan believed in the Jedi Order and its purpose. He could get by on that, even if he didn't like all of it. He trusted in the Force. That was what really mattered. The Force was telling him that there was something significant to be found in Anakin's outburst.

" _How do you know that you even have the whole truth?"_

Something was amiss. He'd sensed it ever since arriving on Naboo and had been surprised to find that it hadn't gone away even after the arrest of the bounty hunters. Then it hit him. Dooku's conspicuous absence was all wrong. Everyone had been so engrossed in the Chancellor's safety that they hadn't really spared a thought for the missing Sith Lord, or where - _if_ \- he might be hiding.

Deep in thought, Obi-Wan went to the hangar where the Jedi ship sat, entering the command centre and pulling up a holo map on the main console. He rotated it so he could study the hangar that he had entered with the bounty hunters and Dooku, tracing all routes from it and where they led. Mace Windu found him there, approaching him with a quizzical look.

"Something still bothering you?"

"Yes," he admitted, raising a hand to his chin, still a little surprised to find only stubble. "Something Anakin said has me worried. Do we know the whole truth?"

Mace sent him a frown. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure yet," Obi-Wan said. "Is the Chancellor ready to leave?"

"No. He'll be leaving after dinner. The Queen invited him to stay." Mace's expression was all irritation. Yet again, he clearly didn't agree with Palpatine's decision.

Obi-Wan took in the news with concern. If the Chancellor was staying for another few hours, then that was just more time for something else to go wrong.

"I think I'll see if I can persuade Senator Amidala to stay," Obi-Wan elected. "There's something I want to check."

"And your ride back is with her," Mace surmised.

"Yes, I thought I should travel with Sabé." Turning to go, he added, "I'll see you back at the Temple."

Mace nodded and Obi-Wan left the ship. He found Gregar near Padmé's Nubian cruiser, chatting to one of his men. The captain turned to greet him, the other officer heading up the ramp.

"I…can't get used to you like that," he said, face scrunched in an expression of distaste.

"Only a few more hours, I'm told," Obi-Wan replied with a quick smile. "Where can I find Padmé? I need to see if she'd be willing to extend her stay."

"Funny you should say that. She'll be a couple of hours more. She gave Moteé and Teckla leave to visit their families and she's doing the same."

Obi-Wan nodded at the fortunate turn of events. "That's good."

Gregar studied him. "Something wrong?"

"Hopefully not. I just need to check a few things. Where's Sabé?"

"Sleeping, I think."

Side-tracked, Obi-Wan frowned, confused. "Sleeping? This late in the afternoon?"

"I don't think she sleeps well these days," Gregar said with a shrug. "From what she's said."

Obi-Wan had been aware of that, but he'd hoped the problem had lessened. "I'll leave her where she is then," he said aloud. "Thank you, Gregar."

The captain nodded to him. Obi-Wan set off for the hangar he'd used the previous day, retracing his steps from there up to the tower. He conducted a thorough search of the room before considering the case that his sniper rifle had been packed in. There, tucked down the side of the moulded inner padding, was a comlink.

 _So they_ were _listening_ , he thought, throwing the com out of the open balcony door.

Outside, the sun was just starting to set. The view would have been impressive if he'd been in the mood to appreciate it.

 _If Dooku is still here, he would know by now that most of the security detail has left…_

Painfully aware that Anakin could be the only thing between the Chancellor and the Sith Lord, Obi-Wan took off at a run, pelting down the stairs of the tower. With a sinking heart, he realised he had an entire palace to search. He began in a wing far away from where the Queen was, doubting that Dooku would risk attracting the attention of her guards.

Running down the empty, dimly lit corridors, he kept an ear out for chatter or worse. He turned a corner and collided with Sabé, sensing her at the last moment and gripping her arms to lessen the impact.

She gasped, swearing, clutching his elbows to steady herself. "Gods, Obi-Wan, you run quietly!" she scolded.

"Likewise. Are you all right?"

"Fine," she dismissed quickly. "I was looking for you. Someone's been using the secret passages. I was still in my room and I heard them in the walls. No one should be hanging around at this time of day, it's twenty minutes until dinner."

Normally, Obi-Wan would have wanted to account for every palace staff member before concluding that an intruder was using the passages, but it was unnecessary: he knew who it was.

"Where is the Chancellor?" he asked urgently.

"I haven't seen him. Isn't he with the Queen?"

"I don't think so. He said the Queen had invited him to dinner, yet he's not at the dining hall. Is there anywhere else where he might be, somewhere that he might be misdirected to?"

Sabé bit her lip as she considered. "There's a banqueting hall in the west wing, but it's hardly ever used."

Letting her go, he said, "Can you take me there?"

She nodded at once. "This way."

They dashed away, keeping side by side, Sabé leading by a scant few inches. Eventually they reached the point where direction was no longer necessary. The sound of clashing lightsabers echoed down the corridors, bringing them to a halt.

"I think I can find my way from here," Obi-Wan said wryly.

"I think you're probably right," Sabé added.

He turned to her, saying intensely, "Don't follow me."

She looked torn but agreed, for which he was grateful. As capable as she was, she was no match for a Sith. Fortunately, she knew it.

"I'll fetch the Palace Guard," she declared. "Be careful."

He squeezed her shoulder briefly, then headed off towards the sound of battle. He rounded a corner just in time to see Anakin crouching on the floor, remnants of smoke around him indicating that he'd once again been a victim of Dooku's Force lightning. Ahead, the Sith Lord and his droid guard were backing up the steps with the Chancellor.

Obi-Wan skidded to a stop by his friend's side. "Are you all right?"

Shaking off his supporting hand, Anakin got to his feet. "Come on!" he barked.

Together, they hurried after Dooku, eventually emerging on a small platform where a ship hovered, waiting. The Chancellor had already been dragged up the ramp, Count Dooku following closely. With a grunt, Anakin leapt the entire length of the platform, landing on the ramp to engage Dooku once more. Obi-Wan ran after him, taking on the droid, cutting it in half and kicking it off the ramp into the dark oblivion below. Deactivating his lightsaber, he escorted the Chancellor back down to the platform, helping him jump the short distance the departing ship had created. Dooku kicked Anakin down after them, and he landed on his feet, glaring up at the Sith Lord.

"Well done, Master Kenobi," Dooku called down tonelessly. "You are a worthy adversary. I cannot say the same about your young apprentice." With a flourish of his blade, he stepped back and let the ship's door close, cutting him off from view.

Anakin bristled, deactivating his lightsaber with an angry snap of his hand.

"He's just trying to goad you," Obi-Wan assured him.

"You think?" Anakin said sarcastically.

"Pay it no mind."

With a clatter of running footsteps the Palace Guard arrived, Sabé and Padmé in their midst. Padmé immediately hurried to Palpatine.

"Chancellor, are you all right?" she asked, helping Anakin lift the old man to his feet.

"Yes," he said with some relief, "thanks again to the heroics of the Jedi. That's the second time in as many days!"

"We specialise in heroics, Chancellor," Obi-Wan said lightly.

Anakin met Palpatine's gaze. "As long as I live, no harm will ever come to you, Your Excellency."

The Chancellor seemed both touched and amused. "Hmm," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "Well, here's to your long and prosperous life, Anakin. One shudders to think where the galaxy would be without the Jedi."

Padmé escorted him inside, Anakin at their heels. Sabé and Obi-Wan headed in together.

"I bumped into Padmé on my way," Sabé explained. "Just as well. Her word holds more weight with the Palace Guard than mine. Seems like you had everything under control though."

"One tries one's best," Obi-Wan replied, reaching out to the Force. The sense of unease was lessening the further Count Dooku's ship flew.

"Is it over now?" Sabé asked him.

He shot her a cordial look. "I think so. Back to normality."

"Yes, speaking of, let's get you back to the Jedi Temple. This face has character but yours is nicer." Her eyes widened a little as she realised what she'd said, and she looked away, biting her lip.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, resisting the urge to pull her up on it, knowing she would be embarrassed. Cringing, she peered up and met his gaze, taking in his rather restrained smirk. Then she let out a burst of mortified laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. He chuckled with her. There was a world of understanding in the looks that passed between them, speaking more of what they knew of their feelings for each other than had ever been said aloud.

When they caught up with Padmé and the others, Obi-Wan could see the senator scrutinising their expressions, clearly wondering what joke they were sharing. She would wonder for a while. The mutual attraction between himself and Sabé was something that needed to remain unspoken. Especially as he was still unsure quite how to handle the situation. Sabé seemed relatively happy carrying on as normal, but he was not naïve enough to believe that it could last. Sooner or later it would take its toll on her. He appreciated her determination though. It was touching that she was so adamant not to make things difficult or complicated for him.

Gregar was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. He bowed when he saw Padmé and the Chancellor. "The ship is ready when you are, M'lady."

"Thank you, Captain. I'll be right there." Turning to Palpatine, she added, "Will you stay, Chancellor?"

"I believe my time here has come to an end," the Chancellor decided. "There is only so much excitement I can take. Anakin, my boy, I'm ready to leave as soon as I bid the Queen goodbye."

"Very good, Your Excellency," Anakin said with a bow.

Padmé smiled, clasping her hands. "We'll see you back on Coruscant then. Safe journey."

"You too, Senator."

 _Boring journey would be a nice change_ , Obi-Wan thought to himself, for once feeling confident that would get his wish. One step closer to leaving Rako Hardeen behind.

* * *

Anakin was rather surprised when Chancellor Palpatine joined him in the cockpit of the ship once they had jumped to lightspeed. With a single authoritative gesture, he sent away the co-pilot, taking his seat with a warm smile. It was a strange sight, seeing the regal politician at the controls of a ship, even though he wasn't planning on using them. In fact, Anakin wasn't even sure he knew how.

"Everything okay, Chancellor?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Palpatine said cheerfully. "I just find being a passenger can be rather dull."

Anakin laughed, agreeing with the sentiments wholeheartedly. "Well, I'm afraid the view is going to be pretty much this for the next few hours," he said apologetically, waving a hand at the brightness of hyperspace.

"Better than no view at all, my boy, I assure you."

"I can believe that."

The Chancellor fixed him with a piercing look, his expression open and friendly. "To be honest with you, Anakin, I wanted to see if you were all right."

Anakin turned to him in surprise. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Why?"

"You've seemed...rather out of sorts during our time on Naboo." Palpatine said with concern. "I wondered if perhaps it had something to do with Master Kenobi's disguise."

Anakin's lips twitched in a tiny smile as Palpatine spoke. The Chancellor was the only person who seemed to really understand how he felt. Padmé did her best, but she sometimes got it wrong, and Obi-Wan was always so resolute about doing things by the book.

"I don't want to burden you with my problems, Your Excellency," he spoke up after a beat.

"Nonsense," Palpatine dismissed. "You know I always do my best to help you where I can. I understand that the Jedi generally discourage talking about their feelings, but you are the Chosen One. The same rules do not necessarily apply."

Anakin wasn't sure that that was true, but he was feeling too bitter to care. "I just...don't understand why the Council doesn't trust me. If I'd known what Obi-Wan was up to, I could have helped him."

The Chancellor gave a sympathetic sigh. "I'm afraid I will never comprehend the way the Council decides things, Anakin. But then, I'm not a Jedi. Perhaps there is something I'm missing. The only advice I can give you is to be true to yourself, rather than trying to please others. I fear attempting to please the Council will only lead you to more frustration. You have proven time and again that your judgement is sound."

"Thank you for saying so, Your Excellency," Anakin muttered, feeling a little of his resentment start to crumble away at the reassuring words. "I do understand that sometimes unpleasant things have to be done for the good of the mission, but...when I found out that even Sabé knew before I did...someone who isn't even a Jedi..."

Palpatine looked mildly surprised at the news. "Really? I wasn't aware of that." He folded his arms, tucking his hands inside his voluminous sleeves. "Well...I suppose Master Kenobi takes his duty very seriously." Shooting Anakin a sidelong glance, he added, "Unless...I hate to suggest it, but are we sure there isn't anything inappropriate going on there?"

"No, it wouldn't be that," Anakin answered at once. "She's not the one he..." He cut himself off, unwilling to betray Obi-Wan's feelings for Duchess Satine. "...uh...well, never mind. He did say it was because of duty. It just...I don't know. Seems wrong."

"Hmm," the Chancellor murmured, looking thoughtful. "It is a sad day when someone we trust lets us down. However, you must bear in mind that Master Kenobi is not all powerful, and you must forgive him for the occasional mistake."

Anakin nodded, humbled by the Chancellor's calm logic and sense. "I know. It's just...easier said than done."

"Very true. But that is a battle we must all face every day. You are more than capable of it."

"I'm very grateful for your faith in me, Chancellor," Anakin said respectfully. "And for your support, as always."

"That," Palpatine said with a smile, "you shall always have. Being in a position of power, above your peers, can be isolating. I understand that better than most. The least I can do is help make sure you never feel the same way I have."

As he'd speculated many times before, Anakin wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve the kind encouragement the Chancellor always offered him, but he was thankful to have it. There had been many occasions, too many to count, when Palpatine's wisdom had helped him work through a situation. He wondered what the Chancellor's advice would be if he confided in him about Padmé. That was the one topic he'd never dared to speak of, but it was also the one thing for which he most needed guidance. Fear made him hold his tongue. Fear of rejection, fear of causing difficulties for Padmé. He never wanted to bring her any kind of pain or trouble, but he knew he did. Despite the best of intentions, he couldn't seem to help it.

Realising that the Chancellor was still waiting for an answer, Anakin said, "Thank you, sir. I know I'll never have a reason to doubt your trust in me."

"No, my boy," Palpatine agreed, "you won't."

* * *

After surreptitious discussion, Sabé, Obi-Wan and Gregar all agreed that the best course of action regarding Moteé and her suspicious activity was to follow her the next time she went out. They found their opportunity the very next day after returning from Naboo, as Moteé had swapped her day off with Teckla. Leaving Gregar behind to explain to Padmé, Sabé and Obi-Wan took off on a stealthy pursuit.

It was not as easy as they had hoped on a busy Coruscanti afternoon. Moteé was no fool, and she often paused to look behind her as she went, forcing Sabé and Obi-Wan to put their reflexes to the test as they ducked out of sight.

"This is ridiculous," Sabé declared, crouching low behind a street vendor's stall. "She's going to know something's up."

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. They were both dressed casually, Obi-Wan minus his Jedi robe, Sabé in a nondescript outfit consisting of boots, leggings and blouse, all in shades of brown. They were as unremarkable as they possibly could be, but ducking and hiding was shifty behaviour, to say the least.

Then Obi-Wan cracked a crafty smile. His hair growth had been accelerated by the droid at the Jedi Temple so that it grew back to its original length within a matter of hours, but his beard was taking a more natural path. As such, Sabé was able to appreciate his expression to its full, glad that it was his and not Rako Hardeen's.

"Oh," she said warily, "I know that look. What are you up to?"

"She's looking behind," he pointed out, "but she's not looking up. We need to take a slightly more unusual route."

Sabé stared at him with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"

In reply he pulled her to her feet, scooped her up into his arms, then leapt up ten stories of the building beside them to land on one of its tiered roofs. Sabé bit back a shocked scream, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging on for dear life. He ran along the roof, taking a flying jump at the end of it to land on a balcony on the next building. Sabé tried to keep eyes on Moteé's purple-clad figure below, but she found herself often squeezing them shut rather than look down at the dizzying gaps Obi-Wan was taking them over. As with almost all of Coruscant, its layers went down far deeper than the level most people were walking on. Sabé didn't have a problem with heights, but travelling by Jedi was not how she wanted to navigate them.

For several minutes they kept level with Moteé, tracking her progress, until it became clear where she was going.

"500 Republica," Sabé said, craning her neck to look ahead of them. "If we lose her in there, we'll have no hope of finding out where she's going. It's the largest apartment block on the planet."

"Does Daedrin live there, do you know?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes, but so do thousands of other people."

"Hmm. All right, hang on, we're going down."

Sabé dug her fingers into his tunic, scoffing. "I've been doing nothing _but_ hanging on for the past five minutes!"

Obi-Wan chuckled, then casually dropped off the balcony. He landed in a crouch beside a thoroughly surprised Bith salesman and set Sabé on her feet. She wobbled slightly, and he gripped her elbow, looking concerned.

Sabé held up a hand. "I'm fine, I'm fine. That was just…not how I expected to travel today."

He let her go, and they ducked and weaved their way towards the entrance of the mammoth tower block. Standing at over a thousand stories high, it dominated the space it stood in, casting a wide shadow. Moteé was just at the main door, speaking to the security droid there. They didn't catch everything she said, but Sabé distinctly heard her fellow handmaiden say she was heading for the six-hundred and first floor.

Obi-Wan got them past one of the other droids, his authority as a Jedi giving him complete discretion. The turbolifts were bustling with people, but Obi-Wan saw an opportunity that Sabé missed. Before she knew it, he had wrapped an arm around her waist, there was a blur of movement, and then they were safely inside a lift just as the door slid shut. Sabé blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened, while Obi-Wan let her go and pressed the button for the floor Moteé was going to.

Concluding that he had used some kind of Jedi super speed, she fixed him with a glare, wishing that she'd had a warning. The presence of other people in the lift kept her silent. Obi-Wan sent her a benevolent smirk, turning to look up at the floor numbers changing rapidly on the display above the door.

They stepped out of the lift when it reached their floor, immediately looking around for a hiding place. Sabé squeezed herself into a corner behind a large plant pot, while Obi-Wan ducked down behind its twin on the opposite side of the lobby. They waited in silence for several long minutes, watching the residents of the building gradually trickle out of the turbolifts. Eventually, Moteé was one of them.

At a discreet distance, they followed, their footsteps mercifully muted by the thick carpet that lined the corridors. Moteé was walking with an air of anticipation now, no longer concerned with peering over her shoulder. The doors were widely spaced, each apartment taking up a generous amount of room, and she stopped outside one of them, tapping the panel there. Sabé edged around the corner she was hiding behind, just enough to let one eye see what was going on. She was aware of Obi-Wan just behind her, doing the same. Feeling a little anxious, she bit her lip, praying that they wouldn't hear Daedrin's voice when the door opened.

There was a quiet swish as it slid aside, and Sabé tensed. A figure clad in white and grey darted out into the corridor and picked Moteé up, holding her close in an elevated hug while she giggled. Sabé stared in amazement. She had never heard the stoic handmaiden _giggle_. She didn't even know she was capable of it. As she watched, the man lowered Moteé to the floor, leaning in to kiss her eagerly. After a moment she gently pushed him away.

"Not here, someone will see," she chided, smiling.

The man looked at her, a grin spreading across his face, and Sabé realised she knew him. Tall, dark-skinned and handsome, he was Giddean Danu, a senator from Kuat. He took Moteé's hand, drawing her into the apartment, and the door shut behind them.

Sabé remained where she was, stunned. Whatever she'd been expecting to find, the scenario she had just witnessed had never crossed her mind. Obi-Wan placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away. Wordlessly, they headed back to the turbolifts, by unspoken agreement, not commenting until they were outside once more.

"I know him," Sabé blurted out, as they walked across the plaza in 500 Republica's looming shadow. "Giddean Danu. He's a senator."

"Is it possible he could be an associate of Daedrin's?" Obi-Wan asked.

Sabé shook her head at once. "Doubtful. He's a friend of Bail Organa's, and I happen to know that _he_ is a pretty good judge of character."

"Yes, I would agree with that."

"So…is Danu her 'sick friend'?" Sabé pondered aloud. "If so, who was that woman Nadini?"

Obi-Wan sent her a sidelong glance. "Who is this Danu? Is he married? Is that why they're keeping it secret?"

"I don't know him well, but no, I don't think he's married," Sabé said with a shrug. "You know what the HoloNet is like, though. A senator involved with an aide – another senator's aide, at that – would invite scandal. They would ask stupid questions about whether Moteé was passing information from Padmé, or something along those lines." She huffed, irritated by the hypothetical situation she was imagining. "The gossip section of the HoloNet isn't known for its accuracy or sensitivity. I guess I understand her reasoning, but it's so stupid of her to sneak around when there's a murderer on the loose. Maybe she thinks I'm likely to be taken out before her."

"If Daedrin is behind it, then it's possible, I suppose," Obi-Wan put in. "He's already tried, after all. The grenade on Naboo."

"Yes. I dread to think what else he might be planning, considering that he's bitter over the marriage thing."

They turned off the plaza, joining the throngs of people on the walkway that wove between the skyscrapers.

"Do you want to walk back or go the same way we came?" Obi-Wan asked innocently.

Sabé shot him a glare. "The next time I travel up ten stories of a building that quickly, I want to do so inside a turbolift, thank you."

He chuckled, not seeming at all surprised. "Where is your sense of adventure?"

"Firmly hand in hand with my sense of self-preservation," Sabé retorted without missing a beat.

It did not take them long to walk back to Padmé's apartment, even without Obi-Wan's speedy Jedi abilities. There, they reported what they'd discovered to Padmé and Gregar, both of whom were openly shocked.

"I had no idea Giddean was involved with anyone," Padmé said in surprise, "least of all someone from my own staff. Although, I'm relieved that that's what it is rather than what it looked like before."

Sabé nodded in fervent agreement. Uncovering a love affair was far preferable to having confirmation that a fellow handmaiden was in league with a murderer.

"What do we do about it now?" Gregar asked. "Do we confront her?"

"I think we'll have to, if we want the truth," Sabé said. "She probably won't be happy about it, but we need to know. We need to figure out who this Nadini is."

True to her prediction, Moteé was _not_ happy about it, her temper flaring spectacularly within a minute of the conversation beginning. The four of them waited until she got back to the apartment, then made sure they had the formal lounge to themselves. Padmé started things off, relaying what Sabé and Obi-Wan had found out, explaining why they had followed her in the first place.

Moteé's cheeks flushed in anger, her eyes bright as she rounded on Sabé. "You had no right to do that! How dare you stick your nose in where it isn't wanted!"

"We had no choice," Sabé countered, trying to keep her voice calm. "Can't you appreciate what it looked like? We had to find out what you were doing."

"How can you even think that I'd betray the Order?" Moteé snapped heatedly.

"What would you have done?" Sabé asked her. "If you had been in the same situation, you would have made the same decision I did."

Moteé said nothing, turning away, teeth clenched.

"Moteé," Padmé cut in soothingly, "you have a right to your privacy, but we need to know. Do you know this woman Nadini?"

"No," Moteé answered, a little more steadily. "I…there never was a sick friend," she revealed, her reluctance plain to see. "I was always…with Giddean."

"Why keep it secret?" Padmé said softly.

"Because I didn't want the HoloNet getting hold of the story and turning it into scandal," Moteé burst out. "Unlike some, I'm aware what impact negative stories have on your reputation, M'lady."

Sabé frowned, hearing the thinly-veiled jibe, clearly aimed at her.

Padmé spoke before she could say anything. "I appreciate your loyalty, Moteé, but your anger at Sabé is misplaced. I had full knowledge of her plan to marry Obi-Wan and I endorsed it."

Moteé looked a strange mixture of confused and sheepish, shooting Sabé a quick glance before turning her attention back to Padmé.

"Your life is yours," Padmé told her firmly. "Be with who makes you happy and pay no attention to the HoloNet. I don't care what they say about me, and neither will anyone with any sense."

Moteé seemed to struggle for words, eventually settling on a nod.

Sabé left her with Padmé, relieved to have the truth confirmed, but annoyed by the conversation in general. Obi-Wan accompanied her, but Gregar stayed put. Sabé headed downstairs, coming to a halt in the veranda lounge. Obi-Wan touched her arm, looking at her with mild concern.

"Are you all right?"

She sent him a small smile that she intended to be reassuring. "Fine. I just…I don't like what she said back there. About me bringing scandal down on Padmé."

"You know Padmé doesn't agree," he reminded her.

"Yes, but…even still." She gave a shrug, brushing it all aside. "I'll get over it. What do we do now?"

"If you're happy to stay here, I'm going to go and speak to the Council," Obi-Wan said decisively. "It's time we found out who this Nadini is."

* * *

When Daedrin let himself into his spare apartment, the first thing he saw was the clearly-livid woman sitting ramrod straight in his desk chair.

"How nice of you to pay me a social visit," he muttered dryly, hearing the comforting sound of the lock activating behind him. There were dubious characters scattered all over the building.

"Is there any part of this plan that's going right?" she asked him coldly, arms folded.

"Did you miss the bit where we already killed several Order members?"

She got to her feet, approaching him swiftly so she could stare him down. "What are you playing at? You told me that setting up Moteé as a suspect would work. You said that you being seen with her at the ball and me posing as her friend would be enough to make Sabé suspicious. You said that the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, coupled with this suspicion, would set her off guard. You said that I'd be able to take her and Moteé out at the Festival of Light. But wait. _Actually_ , she's absolutely fine, Obi-Wan Kenobi isn't dead, they're all slightly distracted by someone trying to kidnap the damn Chancellor so I never even have a chance to get near them, and it turns out that I broke my cover for _nothing_."

Daedrin stood still in the face of her tirade, waiting for her to take a breath. "What do you want me to say?"

Nadini jabbed a finger at his chest. "I want you to come up with some actual workable plans so that you don't get us both killed. Thank gods I didn't give them my real name. No doubt they're investigating me already."

"What name _did_ you give them?" he asked, curious.

"The same one I gave you," she told him succinctly. "In case you hadn't noticed, I don't exactly trust you."

"I don't trust you either, what does it matter? This partnership works."

Her dark eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "Guess we'll see how true that is, won't we?"

Daedrin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure we will."

"From now on _you_ can take care of Sabé," Nadini declared, her tone inviting no argument. "She's your obsession anyway."

"She rejected me," Daedrin spat bitterly. "I don't take kindly to that."

"Whatever. Give me other names to deal with. She's all yours."

He scoffed. "If that were the case I'd have the pleasure of her company instead of yours."

She smirked. "Pretty sure she'd tear strips off you too. The only difference is you'd get to sleep with her afterward."

He tilted his head, smiling at her coldly. "Darling," he said sarcastically, "that makes _all_ the difference."

Nadini made a soft noise of disgust, not bothering to hide her contempt. "If I wasn't getting paid for this, I'd be right out that door."

"No one is paying you to get in my face and irritate me," Daedrin said conversationally. "But here you are. Besides, if you walk away from this you walk away from getting revenge on the Order. Don't you want them to realise that throwing you out was a mistake?"

A flicker of something a touch more emotional passed over her face, gone in seconds. "That's why I'm sticking with this. That, and the money."

He knew that. It made her so very easy to read, now that he knew her story. "Glad to hear it," was all he said.

She looked sceptical. "Are you?" she asked sardonically.

Daedrin ignored her, turning away. He had research to do, otherwise they wouldn't have a next target. He only hoped she would let him get on with it without interrupting him. Unless she planned on seducing him, in which case he'd probably let her succeed. He doubted that was likely though. She was colder than Hoth.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sobiweek is coming up over on Tumblr. It starts on June 9th, so if you have any new fanworks to post don't forget to tag them #sobiweek2019 :)


	23. Long-Forgotten Foe

**A/N:** Clone Wars storylines are summed up in this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three – Long-Forgotten Foe.**

A few weeks after Obi-Wan had gone undercover as Rako Hardeen, he was summoned to meet with Yoda at the Jedi Temple. Things had been relatively quiet since the Hardeen mission. Obi-Wan had received a call from an absolutely livid Satine Kryze, who had berated him for making her think he was dead. Sabé had been mortified when she found out, and she had been forced to confess that she'd forgotten to tell him that the duchess had been at his funeral. Obi-Wan didn't blame her, of course, but she felt horribly guilty all the same.

Padmé had submitted more evidence to the council on Naboo, backing up her arguments against the marriage law. Once again, they were waiting for a verdict, prepared to do so for several weeks yet. Sabé couldn't help having mixed feelings about the whole thing, however ungrateful and selfish it made her feel.

Shortly after Moteé's secret became known, Obi-Wan told the Jedi Council about the mysterious woman Nadini, but there had been no luck in either locating her or finding out who she was. The name was just an alias. Still, Sabé was hopeful that Obi-Wan's summons from Yoda would yield some information about her. That hope was dashed as soon as he walked through the door, however.

Off duty that day, Sabé had spent her time alone giving the apartment a thorough clean, as they had no droid to keep on top of things. It gave her something to do, so she was not constantly wondering what Yoda's urgent news was. Obi-Wan returned as she was relaxing with a book and a cup of tea, and she took in his expression, as grim and troubled as she'd ever seen it.

Instantly concerned, she sat up straighter. "What is it?"

He did not answer right away, slipping off his robe and hanging it up before joining her on the sofa. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he fixed her with a serious look. "Do you remember the Sith Lord Qui-Gon and I fought on Naboo?" he asked.

Surprised by the question, Sabé nodded. "Uh…yes. That's…not the kind of face you forget." She tried to recall his name. Governor Sio Bibble had been kept prisoner by the Trade Federation and their allies, and so had had a lot to report to Padmé once the planet was liberated. "Darth Maul, wasn't it?" she said, remembering.

"Yes." Obi-Wan's voice was quiet, heavy with unease. "There have been reports that he's still alive."

Sabé blinked in confusion. "But…you cut him in _half_."

"I did," he confirmed. "That's why I'm dubious now."

"But you're worried," she pointed out.

"There's always a chance that the reports are true."

"But _how_ could anyone survive that?"

His expression darkened even further. "You'd be surprised what sheer will to live can achieve. Especially coupled with the kind of hatred the Sith channel."

Sabé fell silent, considering the concept. It was unnerving.

"The only reason I was granted the rank of Knight was because I'd killed a Sith Lord," he went on morosely.

"Obi-Wan, you can't think that way," she chided gently. "Look at everything you've achieved over the years. No one could doubt your right to carry the title of Knight when you did."

He sent her a brief smile, as if he saw the sense in her words but didn't quite want to acknowledge it. There was gratitude there too.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"When we have a location, I'm going to have to go and seek the truth. To see…if it truly _is_ him."

Sabé had been expecting that, but she still hated to hear it. The thought of him walking straight into the path of a fury-driven Sith Lord who would no doubt be hell bent on revenge made her heart skip in fear. "Can't you take Anakin with you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "If it truly is Maul, I don't want him near anyone I care about."

That made sense, and was so like him it almost made her smile, but she had other things to focus on. "How long will it be until you know?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. "Master Yoda says he'll summon me. But I don't think it will be long."

As it turned out, he was right. The very next day, Obi-Wan was called back to the Temple, leaving an anxious Sabé at Padmé's apartment. She went through her duties for the day, trying to keep herself busy, but couldn't stop her mind wandering. After several hours, he returned, and they ducked into an empty office for privacy.

"I need to leave within the hour," he told her briskly.

Sabé nodded, biting her lip in concern. "What's going on?"

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, looking unusually anxious. "He's…he sent a holo message to the Temple. He's on Raydonia, slaughtering villagers. He says the planet will burn unless I go and face him alone. I can't let that happen."

"No, of course not," she said, even as she wished there was a way he could stay.

"I'm sorry that this takes me away from my duty to you," Obi-Wan added, "especially so soon after the Festival of Light…but…it has to be me."

Sabé nodded, knowing it well. Of course it had to be him. That was precisely why she was so worried.

"I hope to be back in a day, but if I'm not…you'll be safe here."

Not trusting herself to speak, Sabé simply nodded again. Pushing any apprehension aside, she approached him, resting her hands on his shoulders and meeting his gaze. "Just come back," she ordered him.

"I'll do my best."

She knew it was the most truth he could offer her. Rising up on her toes, she placed a gentle kiss to his forehead. When she sank back down, his face was unreadable, eyes burning with a fierce kind of intensity that she couldn't quite decipher. Sabé tried to smile encouragingly, but she couldn't muster the enthusiasm. Still, her efforts made the corner of his lips twitch, as if he appreciated her trying.

Stepping back slightly, Sabé dropped her hands from his shoulders. To her surprise, he caught one, holding her fingers between his warm palms, and gallantly kissed the back of it. Before her shock would let her speak, he let go and swept out of the room, leaving her standing there open-mouthed, her skin still tingling.

Distractedly, Sabé returned to her duties, once again settling in for a period of anxious waiting. She hoped and prayed that he would keep to his word and come back to her.

In the end, it was less time than she'd dared hope, just a day, as he'd said. Still, the relief she felt at seeing him arrive to pick her up was as much as if she'd been waiting a week. He was weary, battered, and missing his robe, but he was alive. Padmé let her leave early so she could let him get home to rest.

"What happened?" she asked, as she piloted them back to the apartment. "Was it him?"

"It was," he confirmed with a grunt, one arm curled protectively around his ribs in a way that suggested he was trying to make it look casual. Sabé wasn't fooled. She could clearly see he was in pain.

"And...the Raydonians?" she ventured, fearing she already knew the answer.

"Dead," Obi-Wan said quietly. "Maul wasn't alone. He had Savage Opress with him. It seems they're brothers."

Sabé had heard stories about Opress, a dark creature warped by the Nightsisters of Dathomir, once an experimental apprentice of Count Dooku's. He was almost feral and absurdly strong.

"That's not good," she muttered, understatement though it was. "How did you make it out of there?"

"I had some unexpected help from Asajj Ventress."

Sabé glanced at him in surprise. She'd never heard a single report of Ventress helping _anybody_.

Obi-Wan saw her expression and elaborated. "It seems there's a bounty on Opress's head. She was there to collect it. Unfortunately, they were too strong for us both. We only escaped by trapping ourselves in the cockpit of their ship and ejecting from the main body."

Sabé took in the worrying news with a frown, parking the speeder in the lot of their apartment building. She watched as Obi-Wan grimaced his way out of his seat and over to the turbolift.

"Did you go to the Temple before you came to Padmé's?" she asked him, joining him in the lift.

"Yes, why?"

"Didn't you see the med droid?"

"No," he said at once. "I'll be fine, it's just bruising. It seems the brothers rather enjoy kicking me around."

Sabé shook her head in irritation, wondering if he was going to be a difficult patient. "I think I have some salve in the fresher that should help them heal quicker."

He nodded and thanked her, although she couldn't tell if it was to placate her, or because he actually wanted the treatment.

Up in the apartment, Sabé headed for the cabinet in the fresher, ordering Obi-Wan to prepare. He was still where she'd left him when she returned to the lounge, looking sceptical.

"You don't need to do this," he said awkwardly. "I'll manage."

"How do you intend to reach your back?" she asked simply.

He paused, considering the question, not coming up with an answer quickly enough for Sabé.

"Shirt off," she instructed curtly.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, stop being such a child. It's nothing I haven't seen before." Which was technically true, although she'd only seen him in half-darkness. She strongly suspected that he was trying to save her feelings, and that just made her feel self-conscious, but she was determined to be business-like about it.

With a reluctant shrug, he shed his top layers. His torso and arms were a mass of stormy purple bruises, blotching over old scars and battle wounds. Sabé winced when she saw the state he was in, and he looked down at himself, frowning.

"Seems I've seen better days," he mumbled.

Sabé approached him, taking the lid off the pot of salve. She began with his back, gently rubbing the healing substance into his tender skin. He tensed as she started, causing her to cringe in sympathy.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, it's just…" he gave a quick chuckle, "your hands are cold."

"Oh." She laughed too. "Sorry. They'll soon warm up."

She'd been a little worried that the situation was asking for trouble, considering how distracted she could get since realising the extent of her feelings for him, but the dark hue of the bruises kept her focused.

"Must have been some fight," she murmured as she worked.

"Yes," he said softly. "His hatred of me has made him strong."

Sabé knew it wasn't over, and wouldn't be until Maul was dead or captured. The thought gave her a deep sense of foreboding. Such singular, destructive hatred was frightening. She tried to brush it aside.

"This ointment will bring the bruises out quicker, so they'll heal sooner," she explained, despite the fact that she knew he was probably aware of what it did. "You'll look a mess in the morning!"

"No surprises there," he said dryly.

Sabé moved around to his front, purposely not meeting his eyes. She dreaded what she might see there, or what he might see in her. Casually, she dabbed more salve on a particularly nasty bruise on the right hand side of his ribcage.

"I don't envy you trying to find a comfortable way to sleep tonight," she commented.

"Neither do I."

She continued in silence for a moment, still not quite able to look up into his eyes. His breathing seemed shallow and tense all of a sudden, and she tried not to read too much into it. It was most likely pain that was the cause, after all. And there was a chance he'd face worse before the end.

"You're going to have to find him again, aren't you?" she said.

"I can't let him carry on killing innocents," Obi-Wan stated quietly.

"No," she agreed.

"Does it worry you?" he asked.

Sabé pondered what to answer, eventually saying simply, "Of course it does." She chanced a quick look at his expression, seeing the open curiosity there. "Your life can be dangerous, I get that, but this…this is different. This…monster has made it personal. We both know he won't stop until he's destroyed you, and he doesn't care for anyone or anything that might be in his path. I know you have to stop him, but…knowing what you're facing…yes, of course I'm worried. I…I care about you." Inwardly cursing at the way she'd stumbled over the words, she moved on to the last bruise, just underneath his collar bone.

Obi-Wan said nothing for a long moment, just long enough for Sabé to regret what she'd admitted.

"Um…" He cleared his throat, saying softly, "Sabé, I…"

"All done," she interrupted brightly, feeling too cowardly to let him finish. Taking half a step back, she put the lid on the pot.

Obi-Wan's face showed his discomfort: his regret _and_ relief that she hadn't let him finish. Sabé fought back a wave of alarm, dreading to think what he would have said. She doubted it was anything she wanted to hear, or didn't already know.

"Thank you." He smiled, just a small, polite one, and gingerly shrugged back into the soft brown shirt he wore beneath his tunic.

"I'll wash my hands then get us some food," Sabé declared, heading for the fresher.

"It's my turn to cook," Obi-Wan reminded her.

"I know, but you're injured."

"They're just bruises, Sabé," he grumbled, a twinkle of amusement appearing in his eyes. "I can already feel that salve working."

"Even still," she said determinedly. "Cooking two days in a row won't kill me. Now sit down and rest."

Holding up his hands peaceably, he did just that. With the banter came the usual ease they felt around each other, and Sabé welcomed it. There had been tension growing heavy in the room while she had tended to his injuries. Whenever she got close to him, she wanted to wrap her arms around him, to feel him wrap his around her. It wasn't enough that they were good friends. She wanted him to know every side of her, to have him hold nothing back from her, she wanted them to be everything to each other. Above all else at that moment, she wanted to protect him from the likes of Darth Maul and Savage Opress, or anyone else who wanted to do him harm. It was a ridiculous thought really, that a Jedi of Obi-Wan's calibre would need protection from someone like her, but she couldn't help wishing she could keep him safe. She was a bodyguard, after all. Protecting people was what she did. But she knew she'd never voice any of it to Obi-Wan. It seemed too much, too clingy. His life was his to lead.

Shoving the thoughts aside, Sabé got to work preparing their meal, and the rest of the evening passed in companionable ease.

Over the following days, reports started to trickle in of raids and murders across the Outer Rim, descriptions from survivors matching those of Maul and Opress. As the numbers grew, the Jedi Council realised that the incidents needed investigating, as it seemed clear that the brothers were gathering funds to put their plans in motion. Sabé wasn't surprised when Obi-Wan informed her he was once again going after Maul.

"Please tell me you're not going alone, at least," she addressed him sternly, arms folded.

"No," he said at once, taking the edge off her worry. "Master Adi Gallia has volunteered to accompany me."

Sabé furrowed her brow, thinking. "I don't know her, do I?"

"I don't think so, but she's sat on the Jedi Council since before I was a Padawan." He offered a small smile of reassurance. "She's a more reliable ally than Ventress, that's for sure."

Sabé snorted. "Well, that wouldn't be hard."

His answering smirk showed his agreement, but it was clear that he was already focusing on the mission ahead of him.

Later, as she stood on duty while Padmé attended a formal lunch with a collection of senators, Sabé reflected on their parting. It hadn't been as emotionally charged as the last one, but she had once again asked him to come back safe. She seemed unable to send him off anywhere without saying it, as if leaving it unsaid would somehow jinx him. It was silly and irrational, but she did it anyway. It seemed to work, he always came back. Only this time, he came back alone.

* * *

It was the middle of another restless Coruscant night when Obi-Wan returned Adi Gallia's body to the Jedi Temple, his heart heavy with weary sadness. He'd known the unflappable Jedi Master a long time. She'd tutored Siri Tachi, and had – within the limits of the Code – mourned with him when her former student had died in action. A Jedi Council without Gallia's presence seemed strange and unnatural to him.

His report to the Council was as brief as he could feasibly make it. He was in desperate need of recovery time. Maul and Oppress had escaped once again, he was certain of it. Obi-Wan knew the Sith well enough to be sure that crashing a ship was more of an inconvenience rather than a fatal accident. The brothers would turn up again. It was simply a matter of when and where, and who would be unfortunate enough to be crushed in their path.

After a grim debrief, Obi-Wan was finally free to head back to the apartment. It was strange, but the safe-house had truly begun to feel like home. That was mostly down to Sabé's presence, he knew. The extent of how true that was sat as a constant worry across his already-burdened shoulders.

He wasn't surprised to find that she had gone to bed already. The hour was late, and she no doubt had a relatively early start. Still, he felt a desperate need to talk to her, to share his sorrows. Any other time, he would have put his own needs aside and let her sleep, but she had given him strict instructions to wake her if he returned during the night.

As he approached her door, which she had intentionally left open, he quirked a small smile his thought process. A career of observing Padmé had made her adept at reading people. Or perhaps it was just him she could read so well.

Treading softly, he entered her room, somewhere he refused to set foot without invitation. Sabé was curled up on her side, the frown etched between her brows making him wonder what she was dreaming about. Crouching down, he reached out and tried to smooth it away with the pad of his thumb. Sabé wrinkled her nose, batting his hand away, and he almost laughed.

Her eyes opened, squinting at him sleepily. Once she took in the sight of his face, they widened, and she shifted to sit up.

"You're back," she mumbled.

"I landed an hour or two ago," he said softly, mindful of her waking up process.

Her dark eyes were lit with sudden clarity as the remnants of sleep left her, and she swept her critical gaze over him. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "No. Just a top-up on my bruises."

Sabé leaned forward and patted the end of the bed. The coverlet became flat as she tucked her feet up to give him room to sit. Moving from his crouched position, he accepted her invitation.

"What happened?" she asked.

With a sigh, he told her about the encounter with Maul and Oppress, Adi Gallia's fate, his suspicions that the brothers were still alive, and the guilt he felt at the destruction they left behind them. Sabé was a sympathetic listener, particularly when he spoke about Gallia's loss, but as he expressed his sense of responsibility she frowned severely.

"Obi-Wan," she began with a sigh of her own, "none of this is your fault. How could you think that?"

"Maul is out for revenge against me. I took on the task of eliminating him all those years ago, and I failed."

"You cut him in _half_ ," Sabé exclaimed. "Nobody could have predicted that he'd survive that. Be reasonable. These casualties, they're on Maul's head and Maul's head alone."

He knew there was truth and logic to her words, but he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt, nor of dread at the thought of what the brothers would do next.

"I just can't help but feel…" he began, trying to put it into words. "Something worse is on the horizon."

Sabé looked at him in concern. "Do you sense it?" she asked. "Or are you just worried?"

He met her gaze, speaking the truth that terrified him deep down. "I can't tell."

Sabé frowned, seeming to understand his struggle. She placed a comforting hand on his arm, squeezing gently. "It won't do any good to speculate," she said sagely. "We're at war. There will _always_ be something bad on the horizon."

He saw the truth in her sobering words, appreciating the warmth of her palm through his sleeve. Very deliberately, he forced himself not to dwell on the fact that she was garbed only in a thin nightgown. He was only just cautiously considering exactly how much she meant to him, he didn't need to think about how easily he could be distracted if he let himself.

"Sorry," Sabé added, mercifully oblivious to his thoughts, "I know that's…sort of depressing."

"No, you're right," he assured her. "I'll try not to dwell on it." A favourite mantra of Master Yoda's floated through his head, and he almost quirked a smile, reconsidering. "Scratch that," he said. "I _won't_ dwell on it. There is no try."

"There isn't?" Sabé questioned, tilting her head. "How does that work?"

"Depends who you ask. Master Yoda tells every student that they must 'do or do not'. We all interpret it different ways. I've always taken it to mean that if you state your intention to try, you're admitting that you expect to fail on some level. It immediately jumps you from 'try' to 'do not'."

"That's…a little harsh," she said, frowning as she fumbled to understand the Jedi point of view.

"It's a cumbersome way of enforcing positive thinking," Obi-Wan told her, half wanting to smooth out her frown again.

"Well I suppose I can't disagree with that. You should go and get some rest. Focus on not dwelling on it."

He nodded. "I can't sleep, but I can meditate. Things always seem clearer then."

Sabé smiled at him, dropping her hand. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well. And thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for," she declared, although he fervently disagreed.

He left her to the few hours of sleep she had before her alarm was due to go off, retreating to his own room to think. Maul would rear his head again, and when he did, Obi-Wan would be ready to step in and face him. In the meantime, he would focus on the here and now, as Qui-Gon had always taught him.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter ended up being entirely set-up for Maul, but at least there are Feelings in there too :)


	24. Falling

**A/N:** This is the last Clone Wars-based chapter, although there will be relevant events summarised in forthcoming chapters.

This one was really interesting to write.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Four – Falling.**

Padmé sat at her dressing table, stifling yawns as Teckla brushed her hair. She was preparing to face a new day after the sixth night in a row of broken sleep. Her brain felt fogged, and she was very seriously considering taking a sick day. She'd done that so few times, she could count it on one hand. She was being plagued by dreams, vivid, potent, disturbing dreams. It gave her greater insight into how Anakin had felt right before their ill-fated trip to rescue his mother.

Her dreams weren't filled with death, but they troubled her just as much. Some of them were based on memories of happier times, back at the palace in Theed. She remembered how it had felt to be open about her feelings for Gregar, although the dreams were exaggerated versions of the truth, showing her what might have been if she hadn't let herself get clouded by a rigid sense of decorum. She saw endless scenarios of them being happy together, filling her with an acute sense of bitter-sweetness. The rest of her dreams were bleaker, showing her a shadowy figure, shrouded in darkness but for its glowing yellow eyes. It never spoke, but she was intensely afraid of it. She always woke up right when it held its hand out towards her, somehow convinced that its gesture was a threat.

She wished she could talk to Anakin about them. She was certain he'd have some kind of insight. But he was constantly on assignments, and they barely saw each other. She missed him, but it was always tainted with guilt, as she knew she didn't miss him as much as a wife should. Her love for him was purely platonic. She'd gotten over the small crush she'd developed that had made her think she was in love, but her caring had remained. She'd assured him of that once before, long ago. It wouldn't be enough for him now, not anymore.

Her dreams were cruel, forcing her to face the feelings she harboured for the man who was not her husband. Padmé had been determined to put them aside until the war was over, determined to find the right way to convince Anakin to agree to a divorce. Without vanity, she knew that the conversation would hurt him deeply, possibly affect his abilities. She couldn't bear the thought of her actions driving him to recklessness, and she knew she couldn't put him through that while he still needed to be a war hero.

"Are you all right, M'lady?" Teckla spoke up softly, lowering the hairbrush.

Padmé jumped, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "I'm fine, thank you, Tecka. Just tired."

"Do you want me to contact Representative Binks to attend the Senate in your place?"

"No, I'll be fine. But I could do with some caf."

Teckla bobbed a curtsey. "I'll have some sent up right away."

Caf was only a temporary miracle worker, but it was the best thing Padmé had. For now.

* * *

Sabé was on edge. For weeks things had been quiet. They hadn't heard anything of the Order of Sanctuary murderer or Darth Maul. She was suspicious. It was _too_ quiet, and she expected a nasty surprise around every corner. Such a lack of action could only be strategic, and she dreaded to think what it was a precursor to.

Obi-Wan seemed to feel it too, but he was far better at hiding it. In an attempt to understand the enemy he was facing, he took a short trip to Dathomir, Maul's homeworld. What he'd seen there had sobered him, and Sabé hadn't pushed him to talk about it. He took on small assignments from the Jedi Council as usual, and nothing seemed amiss. Then one day he returned to the apartment with a grim, haunted look, and Sabé knew something serious had occurred.

"What is it?" she said at once, setting down the diadem she was trying to mend and rising to her feet. "Is it Daedrin?"

"No," he answered her, running a hand across his chin. "It's Satine."

Sabé raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew Obi-Wan and Satine hadn't spoken since his false death, and as far as she'd known, the duchess was busy running her planet.

"Is she okay?"

"No. She's been captured by Death Watch. She managed to get a message through first, calling for my help. She says Mandalore has fallen to Prime Minister Almec, who clearly has Death Watch behind him. She claims he also has the support of the crime families." He reported the facts to her wearily. "I…I admit, I'm finding it difficult not to go to her aid."

Sabé nodded, quashing her more selfish impulses and reminding herself that he was entitled to want to help. He'd said his goodbyes to his past with Satine, but that didn't mean he didn't still care for her.

"Did the Council tell you not to?" she asked.

"They did. It's an internal affair now that Death Watch has parted ways with the Separatists. Logically they're right, but…"

He trailed off, but Sabé knew what he was thinking. Logic rarely went hand-in-hand with matters of the heart.

"What will you do?" she queried.

"I'm not sure," he admitted quietly. "I don't know what I _can_ do. A civil war in a neutral system…the Council is right, I can't get involved in that. It's too great."

"But you could rescue Satine," Sabé pointed out. "She'd have to leave her cause behind, because you're right, you can't get involved in that, but at least she'd be safe. You think her life is in danger, don't you?"

"I find Death Watch very unpredictable," Obi-Wan replied, folding his arms. "And that's cause for concern. But…Sabé, you know I can't go against the Council."

Sabé took in his torn expression, knowing that he'd do his duty, but he would suffer for it.

Duty.

A plan sparked, and she brightened, lifting her chin decisively. "You may not be able to," she said determinedly, "but I can."

He sent her a frown, the beginnings of a chiding expression starting to cross his face. "Sabé…"

Taking a leaf out of Padmé's book, she cut across him, saying, "Your duty is to protect me. I'm going to help the duchess. If you don't want to disobey direct orders, you'll have to come with me, won't you?"

The look he sent her was of fond exasperation, underlined with gratitude as he accepted what she was doing for him. "It's too dangerous, the situation there–"

"Obi-Wan, I'm going," she interrupted firmly. "With or without you. But I _will_ need your help, so you'd better just square with it and come along. We're wasting time."

He shook his head, a tiny smile finding its way onto his face. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

She shrugged off the thanks, trying not to think too hard about what she was doing. "Come on," she said gently.

* * *

They borrowed a ship from Anakin, realising far too late that it was one of his pet projects. It was in the middle of a complete overhaul, and there was still plenty that he hadn't fixed. Sabé was impressed that they managed to make it to Mandalore in one piece. Fortunately, the fact that the ship seemed determined to lose components at an alarming speed gave them a talking point with the Death Watch guard at the docks. It was all too easy for Obi-Wan to lure him aboard and render him unconscious, stealing his armour.

Unlike the blue and grey of the Death Watch supporters they'd encountered before, Almec's soldiers favoured red and black. Obi-Wan strapped on the twin blasters, concealing his lightsaber within easy reach. Sabé was dressed in a nondescript jumpsuit, smears of oil on her face helping to sell the illusion that she was a harmless mechanic. They hopped on board a parked skiff, and Obi-Wan piloted them across the dim landscape of Sundari's transparisteel buildings. With Sabé acting as a prisoner, it was a simple task for them to enter the detention centre.

A quick glance at one of the computer terminals told them where the duchess was being held, and they made their way there, spying her through the reinforced transparisteel walls. She was sitting with her back to the door, her pale hair loose and dishevelled, looking as if she was making an unsuccessful attempt at meditation. Sabé noted the weary slump of her shoulders, feeling a pang of sympathy, and she knew she'd made the right decision in helping Obi-Wan come and rescue her. She let him go ahead, keeping watch in the corridor, half keeping an eye on the cell.

"Here to do more of your master's bidding?" Satine asked as the door slid aside. She said it plainly, as if she couldn't quite muster the sarcasm she wanted to use.

"I do my own bidding," Obi-Wan said with no small amount of irony, tugging off the disguise's helmet.

"Obi-Wan!" Satine was on her feet in a trice, spinning and throwing herself into his arms.

Obi-Wan reacted a touch awkwardly, placing a calming hand on her shoulder and gently moving her back. His expression was kind, however.

"Are you alone?" Satine asked.

"Not quite."

Taking that as her cue, Sabé stepped into the light, offering the duchess a small, polite smile.

"Lady Sabé," Satine said with open surprise.

"The Jedi Council cannot help you," Obi-Wan relayed, "and the Senate will not send aid to a neutral system."

"Then how are you here?" Satine said, her confusion evident.

"The Jedi Council cannot help you," Obi-Wan repeated, a tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth, "but when the woman I'm charged to protect insists on coming to rescue you, I had to come along."

Satine looked to Sabé, her astonishment rather unflattering. Sabé supposed she couldn't blame her, considering the feelings they both held for the man beside them.

"You?"

"Come on," Sabé said, uncomfortable, "we shouldn't linger."

Obi-Wan slipped his helmet back on, gesturing Satine out into the corridor. He led them to the turbolift, pressing the button to call it to their floor.

"I trust you have an escape plan, then?" Satine said softly.

"As always," Obi-Wan replied.

The lift doors opened, revealing another red-clad guard. Obi-Wan gestured the two women forward, nodding to him. Wordlessly, Sabé and Satine entered the lift. Satine stared at the floor in an attempt to look defeated, while Sabé tried to look bored.

"There's no record of a prisoner transfer here," the guard spoke up.

"The orders came from upstairs," said Obi-Wan casually.

There was a pause, and Sabé cautiously began to hope that the guard had bought it, but then he turned to her. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Broken cell lock," she said casually. "It's fixed now if you want to go and check."

"Where's your escort?"

"Left me at the lift doors."

There was a longer pause, and Sabé watched the floor numbers decrease. The guard, however, wasn't done speculating.

"This prisoner transfer…what's the authorisation code?" His modulated voice was heavy with suspicion.

"Oh," Obi-Wan said articulately, exchanging a glance with Sabé. She shrugged, darting forward to tug off the guard's helmet. Obi-Wan brought one of his blasters down on the back of the man's head, knocking him out cold. Satine didn't even so much as tut in disapproval, indicating that the past few days had taken quite a toll on her.

They exited the lift, leaving the snoozing guard behind, and Obi-Wan discarded his helmet.

"Can barely see in that thing," he muttered.

Their borrowed skiff was still waiting, and they hurried towards it. A second guard emerged, taking a quick glance at his fallen colleague before yelling at them to stop. Dodging blaster bolts, they all got aboard, and Obi-Wan piloted them away.

"They're behind us!" Sabé reported, returning fire.

Obi-Wan didn't respond, pushing the skiff to its maximum speed. Before long they were back at the docks, pulling up in front of Anakin's rust-bucket of a ship.

"Get on board!" Obi-Wan yelled, firing his borrowed pistols. Sabé helped him cover the duchess, and they continued shooting until the ramp hid them from view. Quickly, they headed for the cockpit, all too aware that they were outnumbered.

Obi-Wan powered up the ship, thumping the console when it refused to respond first time. Sabé activated the guns, raining fire down on the cluster of Death Watch supporters below.

"We have to contact my sister for help," Satine said. "She'll send reinforcements."

"Who's your sister?" Obi-Wan asked in obvious confusion. Clearly the family was estranged enough that Satine had never mentioned her before.

Satine didn't reply, and Obi-Wan turned his focus to getting the ship off the ground. It shuddered but began to ascend. Sabé peered out of the viewport, calling out a warning.

"Rockets!"

They all jolted with the hit, Sabé just managing to brace herself against the console. She jumped back when it sparked alarmingly, and the ship began to spin. Starting to feel nauseous, she turned towards the exit.

"I think we should get out of here," she advised.

"Agreed," Obi-Wan said, getting out of his seat.

The three of them headed back towards the ramp. Sabé punched the controls to lower it, and they watched the ground whirling dizzily below. Cautiously, they edged their way along it, gripping the struts.

"Obi-Wan!" Satine squeaked in surprise, losing her footing. She slipped between them, and Obi-Wan grabbed her wrist, leaving her dangling out into open air.

Obi-Wan glanced at Sabé, clinging to the opposite side of the ramp as the ship bellowed smoke and flames. "Take my hand!" he hollered.

"Are you crazy?" she snapped, eying his position. One hand held Satine, the other kept them anchored to the ship.

"Now, Sabé!"

Gritting her teeth, she flung her spare hand out towards him.

"Let go!" he ordered her.

They both loosened their grip on the ship at the same time. Sabé felt his hand close reassuringly around her wrist, and the three of them plummeted down. Obi-Wan cushioned their fall as best he could but it was still a hard landing. Sabé couldn't complain. At least it _was_ a landing. They all rolled to a stop, stunned and breathless. The ship exploded, sending debris flying. A large piece of the hull settled over Satine, but she seemed unhurt. Obi-Wan sent it skittering away with the Force.

Sabé pushed herself up onto her elbows, coughing. Obi-Wan was doing the same nearby, but Satine hadn't moved. Her whole body ached, and her head was still spinning. The thick plumes of smoke weren't helping with her disorientation. A group of figures was approaching, striding through the acrid clouds. Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and Sabé stifled a gasp. She recognised one of them. She would have known that distinctive visage anywhere. Darth Maul. Suddenly, Death Watch's new red and black armour made a lot of sense. It had been staring them in the face all along. No wonder Satine had lost her position so easily.

Sabé felt her heart jolt in fear as Maul lifted Obi-Wan up with the Force, tugging him forward to grip him by the neck.

"We meet again, Kenobi."

Sabé had never heard him speak before, and she was taken aback by the quiet, deceptively soft tones. It was not what she'd expected based on his actions.

"Welcome to my world," Maul said in mocking greeting.

A towering figure that could only be Savage Oppress lifted Satine's unconscious form, slinging her over his shoulder. Maul flung Obi-Wan towards two guards, who caught him and began to drag him away. He was clearly too woozy to make any move to stop them.

"Take them back to the palace," Maul ordered.

Just as Sabé was beginning to think she'd gone unnoticed, he turned towards her, yanking her up and forward with a gesture of one hand.

"Ah yes, the Naboo girl," he said, studying her appraisingly. "Never far out of Kenobi's reach. The HoloNet has much to say about you."

Sabé didn't respond, trying to keep her composure. She'd barely seen much of Maul during the battle in the hangar on Naboo, but what she _had_ seen had stayed with her. She was not Force sensitive, but even she had picked up on the Sith's malevolent aura, and it scared her like nothing else she'd ever felt. Floating in front of him with an invisible grip rendering her helpless, her fear increased tenfold. He was on a personal vendetta against Obi-Wan, and that made Satine and herself ammunition. Even if Maul realised that Obi-Wan didn't have feelings for her, the fact that they were married implied that he cared, even if just a little. Her death _would_ hurt him. And Maul no doubt knew that.

She felt sick from more than just the crash.

"Come along, Naboo girl," Maul said, dropping her to the ground. "It doesn't seem all that long ago that I was helping to invade your planet," he added conversationally.

"That didn't turn out so well for you," Sabé groused, stumbling to her feet. Perhaps it was unwise, but she had to face the very real possibility that she would die before the end of the day. Scoring a few cheap hits would help make it bearable.

"Indeed," Maul commented, still in that dangerously soft voice. "But look at me now."

Sabé moved when he gestured her forward, knowing that it was the only sensible thing to do. She'd noticed the lightsaber on his belt. Not that he'd need it to dispose of her. She'd be easy prey for someone like him, and she knew it.

It was a tiring, awkward journey back to the palace. Her aching body made it difficult for her to keep up with Maul's robotic legs, and she was strangely grateful when they reached the speeder. She could see Obi-Wan and Satine slumped in the back seat of a second vehicle, Death Watch weapons trained on them. She wished Obi-Wan had remained conscious. Perhaps they'd have had a fighting chance.

 _Well Daedrin,_ she thought sardonically, _looks like this is your lucky day. Someone else is going to do your job for you._

Obi-Wan and Satine were just slipping into groggy wakefulness when they reached the palace, and Sabé saw Obi-Wan subtly looking around for her. With a pang she realised he hoped she hadn't been spotted at the docks, and she hated that she had to admit otherwise. His face was grim when he caught sight of her, and she saw at once that he didn't have a plan. Sabé was fresh out of ideas too. They'd have to improvise, if they got the chance, and hope that they could pull something out of nothing.

Maul and Oppress led the way to the throne room, their Death Watch associates ensuring that Obi-Wan, Sabé and Satine followed without a fuss. Maul took the throne, hauling a pained Satine up on the dais with him and making her kneel at his side. Oppress flanked his right side while a nervous-looking Almec stood on his left. Obi-Wan and Sabé were left to stand in the centre of the room, Death Watch's blasters trained on them.

Sabé was struggling to quash her unease, and she hoped her heightened emotions weren't distracting Obi-Wan. She needed him in top form if they were to have any hope of escape. As she considered just how outnumbered they were, facing two people who'd killed Jedi in the past, her hope dwindled to a tiny ember. The physical distance between them and Satine didn't bode well either. She couldn't see how any of them could make a run for it.

Satine seemed to think so too, glancing up at Obi-Wan with concerned, sorrowful eyes. Her expression was one of hopelessness. She may not know the full extent of what was going on, of Maul and Obi-Wan's history, but she knew enough to realise how dangerous a foe he was.

 _She doesn't expect to get out of this either,_ Sabé realised.

"Your noble flaw is a weakness shared by you and your duchess," Maul said, raising his hand and lifting Satine up.

She kicked, struggling to breathe, and Obi-Wan made an involuntary move towards her. Death Watch held him back.

"You should have chosen the dark side, Master Jedi," Maul taunted softly. "Your emotions betray you. Your fear…and yes…your anger."

Sabé looked to Obi-Wan, seeing the struggle on his face. They all seemed to be hurtling towards a horrific inevitability, like actors in a play. She knew he was blaming himself for their situation. She knew it because she was doing the exact same thing.

 _I was the one who persuaded him to come,_ she reflected with borderline panic. _It's my fault. I should have known Satine was bait._

"Let your anger deepen your hatred," Maul snarled.

"Don't listen to him…Obi," Satine managed to gasp out.

"Quiet," Oppress growled.

"You can kill me," Obi-Wan spoke up, sounding calmer than he looked, "but you will never destroy me. It takes strength to resist the Dark Side." His control slipped for a moment, and he snapped, "Only the weak embrace it."

"Obi-Wan," Sabé whispered; a warning, a reminder.

Oppress glared at her, but she didn't care. It was worth it if she and Satine could keep Obi-Wan from touching the darkness. Maul had done that to him once before, when he'd killed Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan had confessed it to her after the battle, admitting that he could easily have cut Maul down in anger had he not been trapped behind a force field, thus gaining the precious few seconds it took for him to regain control. He'd been deeply shaken by the realisation, and she'd done her best to reassure him, pointing out that although he'd been tempted, he _hadn't_ fallen.

Maul continued, unperturbed. "It is more powerful than you know."

"And those who oppose it are more powerful than you'll ever be," Obi-Wan declared. "I know where you're from. I've been to your village. I know the decision to join the Dark Side wasn't yours. The Nightsisters made it for you."

"Silence!" Maul hissed, making Sabé jump. "You think you know me?" He said in challenge, marching towards them. "It was I who languished for years thinking of nothing but you." He jabbed the hilt of his lightsaber at Obi-Wan, but it was merely a gesture, not a threat. "Nothing but this moment. And now…" He flung a hand out towards Satine, who whimpered, still struggling in mid-air. "The perfect tool for my vengeance is in front of us."

Sabé glanced at him, swallowing hard, watching him walk backwards to the duchess's position.

"I never planned on killing you," Maul stated. "But I will make you share my pain, Kenobi." He ignited his lightsaber, and she saw that its blade was black. It was the darksaber that Viszla had wielded the last time they'd been on Mandalore.

Sabé gasped as a Death Watch warrior sent Obi-Wan to his knees, hitting him lightly in the head for good measure. Belatedly she realised that it was to keep him from intervening, but it could not keep him from seeing.

Maul flexed his hand, tugging Satine forward. He swung his arm, sending the obsidian blade through her stomach with a sick thump. Sabé flinched at the duchess's shocked groan. She looked to Obi-Wan, who was wide-eyed and horror-struck, feeling her heart clench in sympathy.

Maul switched off the blade, letting Satine drop to the floor. Obi-Wan darted forward to her side, the guards making no move to stop him. Sabé glanced at Maul, taking in the gleam of his yellow eyes as he watched his greatest enemy suffer. He looked away only to climb the steps to the throne, sitting and surveying the room with a complacent smile.

"Satine," Obi-Wan said gently, slipping an arm under her shoulders and helping her sit up.

She was struggling to breathe, but managed to find some heartfelt words. "Remember…my dear Obi-Wan. I've loved you always… I always will." She raised a hand to his cheek, touching it briefly. Fleetingly, she looked past him, meeting Sabé's distressed gaze. Sabé felt the weight of it like a tangible statement, and she knew what Satine was trying to say. She sent the duchess a subtle nod, trying to convey that she would take care of the man they loved as best she could.

Satine did not have the energy to smile, but Sabé somehow caught the intention. The duchess looked back at Obi-Wan, gazing up into his face, then her eyes drifted closed. Obi-Wan lowered her to the ground, his head bowed.

"Do we kill him now, brother?" Oppress asked.

"No," Maul replied, his calm manner back in place. "Imprison him below. Let him drown in his misery."

Obi-Wan looked up sharply, his eyes narrowed. Sabé saw his fist clench, saw the hunch of his shoulders, and her heart went cold. Breaking away from her captors, she dropped to her knees at his side, gripping his arm. He was holding himself so tensely he was almost trembling.

"Obi-Wan," she said softly. "Look at me."

He didn't move, and she reached out, gripping his chin, turning his face towards her. He looked slightly startled, but it was buried amongst the fury that she could also see within him, swirling, trying to pull him under.

"You have to let her go," Sabé commanded him.

"He already took Qui-Gon from me," Obi-Wan retorted, his tone that of a lost man. "Now another innocent life?"

"I know," she said, blinking back tears as she struggled to pull him back from the darkness, "I know, but Obi-Wan…please. You mustn't let it take you. The light needs you." She hesitated. "I need you."

He met her gaze, and she thought she was getting through to him.

"Remember back on Tatooine," she went on, "when we were stuck on the ship during the sandstorm and you told me about the living Force? You had such faith in it then. Don't lose it. Not now. You know that's where she is, where she'll always be."

His posture relaxed under her hand, and he finally nodded. Sabé let go of his chin, feeling almost dizzy with relief, but it was short-lived.

"Well, well," Maul intoned, leaning forward on his throne. "How interesting."

Sabé hid a grimace, well aware that she'd given her feelings away. It had been a calculated risk, one she'd gladly take again if it would keep Obi-Wan on his light path. But it had put her under Maul's scrutiny in a far more significant way than she'd been hoping.

Oppress turned to Maul. "Want me to kill her, brother?"

Sabé inhaled sharply, tightening her grip on Obi-Wan's arm. She felt him tense again, but it was a far more controlled reaction than before.

"No," Maul decided at length, sounding thoughtful. "Send them both to the cells. We'll give her an hour, then she can join the duchess. Let Kenobi reflect on everything he's lost, and consider what else he will lose before the end."

The weight of the sentence settled across Sabé's shoulders like a mantle, and she swallowed, trying to alleviate her dry mouth. Obi-Wan barely reacted, and she wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. He let the members of Death Watch drag him away, and she followed his lead, not putting up a fight. Maul would have them well guarded, but she felt a spark of determination flare to life as she considered how much easier it would be to escape from a cell than a crowded, Sith-laden throne room. They would have a chance at least.

They were forced to their knees on the skiff ride away from the palace, binders on their hands and several blasters trained on their backs. Sabé wished she could communicate with Obi-Wan, to find out if he had a plan or if it was all down to her. Obi-Wan seemed weighed down by grief, unresponsive to the scenery passing by. Death Watch had noticed as much, only sending four of their warriors to guard them. Sabé felt sure that they would have sent more if they were dealing with a Jedi in peak form, but Obi-Wan was tired, battered from the ship crash, and now in mourning. He looked fit to do little more than sleep.

The skiff pulled up at the entrance of the prison, and Sabé felt a blaster barrel dig into her shoulder, jabbing her forward. On the little landing platform they had space, and she tried to meet Obi-Wan's eye, to see if he would be ready to join her if she fought back. She would have to trust that he was. She let herself stumble, bringing the closest guard within a few feet.

"Keep moving," he barked.

Sabé straightened up and whirled, kicking his blaster away. At the same time the two guards waiting by the door crumpled, and she blinked, confused.

"It's the rebels!" one of the others announced.

Obi-Wan kicked at the nearest warrior, sending him staggering forward. A device on the man's back beeped, then exploded in a small but colourful blast that knocked them both off their feet. When the smoke cleared a woman with vibrant red hair had joined them on the platform, garbed in the old-style blue and grey Death Watch armour. Sabé watched as she swiftly and skilfully took down the remaining guards, finding herself impressed.

The stranger rifled through the unconscious warriors' armour, drawing out Obi-Wan's lightsaber.

"Sorry, I don't believe we've met," Obi-Wan said, getting to his feet. "You are?"

The woman ignited the lightsaber, cutting through their binders. "Bo-Katan," she said. "I'm here to rescue you. That's all you need to know."

Several more warriors armed with jetpacks drifted down to land around them, clearly her allies.

"Sounds good to me," Obi-Wan said accepting his lightsaber from her and sending Sabé an enquiring glance.

She nodded to him, glad to see that his focus was back. Perhaps he'd been exaggerating his despondency in the hope of gaining the upper hand.

Bo-Katan lifted a spare jetpack, asking, "You ever use one of these before?"

"No, but in this case I'm a fast learner." He turned to let her attach the pack to his armour.

Bo-Katan sent a sceptical glance Sabé's way. "Not sure about you. You're not dressed for it, and none of these chest plates will fit you." She looked at the fallen guards around them, frowning.

"I can pilot the skiff," Sabé said.

"It's not fast enough, but…I guess it's faster than if one of us carried you."

"I'll cover you, Sabé," Obi-Wan assured her.

Sabé nodded, bending to pick up a blaster. She took her place at the skiff's controls, powering it up. Obi-Wan took a running leap off the platform, awkwardly swaying as he fought to get the hang of the jetpack. Sabé saw Bo-Katan smirk at him before she took off too. Sabé set the skiff at an ascending angle, following the flames of the jetpacks ahead. Obi-Wan soon picked up enough to fly straighter, and he lingered alongside her.

It wasn't long before Maul's warriors were in pursuit, and Sabé felt blaster fire whip past her head. She couldn't pilot the skiff and return fire, but the others soon had a volley going. They headed into a tunnel with a closed blast door at the far end blocking them from the docks. Their allies disengaged their jetpacks, standing to one side so that Sabé could land. She hopped out, drawing her stolen blaster and helping them pick off Maul's men while Obi-Wan reflected bolts with his lightsaber.

The red warriors charged, meeting the blue in hand to hand combat, and Sabé retreated with Obi-Wan to open the closed door. The glare from unexpected light temporarily blinded them as the door opened, and when their sight cleared they looked out on total chaos.

It was a scene that would have made Duchess Satine weep. Red and blue-armoured Mandalorians fought one another with deadly skill, dodging smoke and flames from nearby wreckage. Sabé and Obi-Wan both halted, momentarily taken aback.

"Maul must really want you dead," Bo-Katan commented, running up to Obi-Wan's side.

"You have no idea," he said, the words heavy with meaning.

She signalled to her warriors, and they all ran into the fray together. Obi-Wan stuck close to Sabé, blocking most of the bolts that flew in their direction while she returned fire. Bo-Katan also stayed near, seeming to have appointed herself as their unofficial guardian.

It wore on in the way of all battles, with each side taking turns to gain temporary victory over the other. A transport arrived delivering more blue troops, and the red quickly shot it down. The stricken ship soared over their heads, coming in low, exploding in a ball of flame that hurt Sabé's eyes.

Bo-Katan steered them towards a ship that had managed to dock, pushing them both up the ramp as she fired her blasters at her enemies.

"Go back to your Republic," she ordered them, "and tell them what has happened."

"That would likely lead to a Republic invasion of Mandalore," Obi-Wan warned her.

"Yes, and Maul will die," she said fiercely. "But Mandalore will survive. We always survive." She turned to face them, for a brief moment looking jaded and deeply sad. "Now go."

"You're Satine's sister, aren't you?" Obi-Wan asked her in sudden inspiration, addressing her retreating back.

Sabé raised a surprised eyebrow, but she knew his instinct was right. It made sense.

"I'm so sorry," he added.

Bo-Katan did not look back at them, but Sabé could sense her acceptance of his words. She darted off to re-join the fight, and Sabé activated the panel to close the ramp. They quickly made their way to the cockpit, finding another blue-clad warrior at the helm. He introduced himself as one of Bo-Katan's closest allies. Obi-Wan did not seem to sense trouble, so they left him to it and retreated to the ship's tiny seating area.

There, Sabé pondered what to say. She felt a fierce need to ensure that Obi-Wan was okay, but she wasn't sure how to. Anything she said aloud sounded inadequate.

"I'm fine," he spoke up quietly, seeming to sense something of her struggle.

"You're not," Sabé replied with certainty. "Do you want to talk?"

"You misunderstand me," he said, fixing her with an earnest look. "I _am_ fine…now. But there was a moment there… If you hadn't reminded me, hadn't grounded me…"

She reached for his hand, not caring if it was inappropriate. She knew he needed the reassurance.

"You wouldn't have fallen," she told him firmly. "I know you wouldn't have."

"I'm not so sure." He shook his head, staring at the ship's scuffed floor. "I felt the darkness, Sabé. Closer than it's ever been. It's my fault. If I'd been strong enough to push her away all those years ago, she would never…"

"You can't think like that," Sabé cut in. "I told you before. Only Maul is responsible for his actions. It's not your fault. I was the one who persuaded you to come here, you could blame me."

He met her gaze, frowning. "No, it's not your fault. I…I think I probably would have come anyway. And she still would have died. I should…I should have been able to save her."

"You can't torment yourself with 'what if's," Sabé said firmly, regretting that she needed to be a little harsh.

He nodded, reciting, "A Jedi does not dwell on the past." He sighed heavily, sitting straighter in his seat. "I can't pretend that my guilt is just going to…disappear. But I can channel it into something useful."

Sabé gave an encouraging nod. "Oh?"

"It's time for me to take on some extra training, studying healing in greater depth. I know it will help me accept…that there was nothing I could do. And perhaps the skills might be useful in the future."

"I think that's a good idea."

He took a long, focussing inhale and let it out slowly. "I need to meditate for the rest of the journey," he said, tone almost apologetic. "I have a lot to sort through."

"I understand. I'll join you." It was the only solidarity she could offer, and he accepted it with something that was almost a smile.

They sat cross-legged side by side, eyes drifting shut, and took steps onto a path of healing.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well that's the end of Satine. Poor thing, she never stood a chance. I wanted to explore the idea of Obi-Wan touching the darkness, even though we know he'd never fall. It seemed to me that if he ever came close to it, Maul would probably be the cause.

I've been super productive this weekend, just finished writing chapter 35! So while this continues, I'm going to try updating weekly if that suits everyone.


	25. Unleashed Truths

**A/N:** Multiple important conversations ahead. Also summaries of several Clone Wars storylines.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Five – Unleashed Truths.**

The death of Duchess Satine seemed to set a series of negative events in motion. Over the course of a few months, Sabé dealt with the loss of another Order member, this time on one of Naboo's moons, and helped Padmé cope with the loss of Teckla, who accompanied her on a mission to Scipio and was shot by a bounty hunter in the line of duty. She aided Moteé in training Teckla's replacement, a junior Order member named Ellé who made up in enthusiasm what she lacked in experience. Sabé only hoped that she and Moteé would be able to protect her from Daedrin until she learned enough to survive on her own.

The group travelled to Naboo for the results of the Royal Election, watching as Queen Neeyutnee bowed out and made way for Queen Apailana. With all the usual duties that were handed over to the new monarch, so too was responsibility over the case against the marriage law, and Sabé prepared for further delays as Apailana caught up with the proceedings so far. Once again, she couldn't help feeling secretly glad, and she tried hard to quash it, acutely aware of how selfish her thoughts were. She had no claims on Obi-Wan outside of their mutual friendship, and it seemed in poor taste in the wake of Satine's death.

Sabé had helped Obi-Wan weather his guilt and grief, and he had been able to overcome it quickly and properly once he found his way in the Force once more. He seemed to find solace in his studies, and was soon quite himself again. It was a good thing he was, as he and Padmé soon found themselves needed by a conflicted Anakin. Sabé and Gregar stood by and watched as their loved ones flocked to the young Jedi's side. In a sickening turn of events, Anakin's Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, was falsely accused of murder, given no choice but to go on the run from the Jedi Council, and then, when her name was finally cleared, had made the life-altering decision to leave the Jedi Order.

Sabé hadn't had occasion to really get to know the girl, but she couldn't blame her for her choice. The Council hadn't been at all supportive, and only Anakin had believed in her innocence. Obi-Wan, thankfully, hadn't been personally involved, and so he was in a position to offer support to Anakin in the wake of Ahsoka's departure. Padmé too, although still feeling a sense of discord with her husband, attempted to offer comfort and reassurances. Anakin clearly felt that he had failed his apprentice. Sabé was sympathetic, but even she could see how the incident had shaken Anakin's already-fragile belief in the Jedi Council. Instead of seeking advice from Padmé and Obi-Wan, however, he seemed to internalise his dark thoughts. Sabé recalled how open and hopeful Anakin had been as a nine-year-old prodigy. It made her sad to see how closed off and brooding he had become.

Padmé seemed worried too. Sabé hadn't found any further opportunities to talk with her about Gregar or Anakin, and she was concerned that her friend was using excuses to avoid the issue. As for Sabé herself, she was doing her best to carry on as normal, pouring all her efforts into supporting her friends, doing her duty, and calling on every acting class she'd ever taken in handmaiden training in order to hide her feelings from Obi-Wan. They hadn't spoken about her impassioned words on Mandalore, how she'd said she needed him. Truthfully, she'd phrased it that way for effect, hoping to bring him back to himself. She didn't need him. She was acutely aware that she _wanted_ him, wanted him in her life, but she didn't need him. That was too much like possessiveness.

She was becoming concerned that she was starting to wear her troubles on her face. She'd passed Daedrin in the corridor at the Senate, and he'd smirked nastily at her, bowing his head and greeting her as 'Mrs. Kenobi' in a tone of subtle mockery. It had taken all her restraint not to punch the sneer right off his face. The Order murders had gone on too long, and she prayed he'd slip up and make a mistake soon. If something didn't change, she'd end up doing something she'd regret. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name.

* * *

Anakin slept restlessly, once again hounded by dreams. In the days following Ahsoka's departure, he'd spent a lot of time with Chancellor Palpatine, finding himself seeking wisdom that did not come from the Jedi. The shrewd old man had been more supportive than he'd dared hope, sharing his concerns at the blindness displayed by the Jedi Council. He'd helped Anakin accept that he'd done all he could. Anakin hadn't failed Ahsoka, the Jedi had.

Padmé had been supportive too, of course, but Anakin didn't feel that she completely understood just how horrible the whole thing had been. Despite her attempts to console him, he'd been feeling so distant from her lately, as if their lives were running parallel to each other but not quite touching. That, he knew, _was_ his fault. His fear of losing her was pushing her away. He could see it happening, but felt powerless to stop it, as if he was simply a bystander to his own life.

And then the dreams made it worse.

He knew he was asleep, but the images were so crisp and real. He saw a shadowy figure advancing on Padmé, a red lightsaber ignited in its hand. She shrank away against the wall, clearly terrified, and he tried to run and help her but he couldn't move.

"Padmé!" he yelled, feeling his heart clench in terror, convinced he was about to see his wife die in front of him.

Padmé screamed out for help, and a man's call answered her. Anakin was taken aback. That wasn't his voice.

"Gregar!" Padmé called out, the single word full of emotion. "Gregar!"

An indistinct shape leaned over the wall she stood beneath, extending a hand to her. Padmé gripped it, sobbing with relief, and was pulled up to safety. Anakin watched as she flung her arms around her saviour, her head resting on his shoulder as his hand stroked her hair. A wave of sickening jealousy crashed over him, and the shadowy figure jabbed his ruby blade into the wall in thwarted rage. Padmé and her rescuer jumped apart at that and ran away, out of his sight. The shadowy figure turned towards where he stood, but Anakin awoke before he could see its face.

He was shaking, skin clammy, and he sent his fist into his pillow, pummelling some of his rage away. It was just a dream, not a vision like the ones he'd had of his mother. He was sure of it. It _had_ to be. Padmé would never… Would she?

Dismayed, he sat up, resting his head in his hands. What if she would? What if she felt the distance between them like he did? Surely she would talk to him first. Talking problems through was what Padmé did best.

It was just a dream, born of his fears. Just a dream. And yet Padmé's impassioned cry echoed through his mind. He was comforted by the fact that the name she'd yelled wasn't one he was familiar with. As far as he knew, she had no associates called Gregar, and he was convinced he'd never heard her speak it.

He settled back down to sleep, determined to keep his faith in Padmé. The Force rippled in approval, but still one traitorous dark thought remained, unsettling it.

Perhaps the reason why he'd never heard the name Gregar was because Padmé was keeping him secret.

Anakin shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. He had to believe that she wouldn't. He _had_ to…because he didn't know how he would cope if it was otherwise.

* * *

When Obi-Wan was in control enough to revisit the events on Mandalore, he did so with a keen eye, examining every detail he could remember in preparation for when Maul inevitably resurfaced. He'd accepted culpability where it was due, but no more than that. Satine had died because she'd been important to him. That fact couldn't be overlooked, but the feelings that had occurred between them had been nobody's fault. It was his guilt that had steered him towards the Dark Side, guilt that he hadn't severed ties with Satine years ago, before any outsiders had noticed.

In seeking knowledge in the Jedi Archives, he'd learned to accept that it hadn't been his task to save her. She'd chosen her own path in loving him. Just as Sabé had.

Since learning of Sabé's feelings, he hadn't felt the need to address them, fearing that doing so would kick up more complications than simply leaving well enough alone. Inaction had led to Satine being unable to move on, however, and he knew he couldn't repeat the same mistake. It was better to talk about it, get everything out in the open, and plan how to move forward. The problem was, he knew it wouldn't be an easy conversation. He waited until Sabé had a day off from her duties, raising the topic after they'd finished clearing up the breakfast crockery.

"Something has…come to my attention," he began, still half wondering if he was handling the situation in the right way. "We need to talk." Feeling uncharacteristically uneasy, he reached into the Force for calm.

"What's this about?" Sabé asked, smiling a little in encouragement, indicating that he had her full attention. "The investigation?"

"No, it's…something else." He met her gaze, willing her to read between the lines.

She looked understandably puzzled, but he found he could not elaborate, even to ease her confusion. Anything he said now would seem cold and crass, and he did not want her to think that he took her feelings lightly.

"It's about us," he said cautiously. "About you."

Her eyes widened slightly in realisation. "Oh," she said dully. Then, after a pause, "Oh. Oh gods."

They both began speaking at once.

"Sabé, I…"

"I never…"

They came to a jarring halt, staring awkwardly at each other. Obi-Wan gave a courteous wave of his hand. "After you."

Sabé pressed her palms tightly together in an obvious symbol of anxiety. "I just wanted to say that…"

She turned away, seeking comfort from hiding her face. He frowned, but made no move to interrupt her.

"That…I never intended for this to happen. I never wanted to put you in this kind of situation. I never wanted to put _me_ in this kind of situation, come to think of it."

"It is what it is," he put in quietly.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," he offered. It was a deeply heartfelt statement. "I've been a fool for not seeing what was happening sooner, especially after the wedding. I should have known it would have consequences."

She spun and looked at him, wide-eyed. "No, no, this is my fault," she insisted, her face openly betraying her anxiety at thinking he would take the blame. "I knew what I was getting into. I thought I could maintain distance, be platonic, but…" She shrugged. "I guess there was a reason why you were the one I thought of when I needed help." Her voice grew soft and reflective. "You've always been the one I trusted most, and now I know why. That's all that's changed, I swear. I have no expectations. I ask nothing from you." She shot him a small look of gratitude. "You've given so much already. When all this is over we will still go back to our lives as we always said we would."

She was brave in the face of her pain, steadfastly refusing to let it interfere with the relationship they already had. He felt a wave of grateful warmth towards her, knowing that it was as much to save his awkwardness as it was to save her hurt. Satine hadn't done that, he recalled. She was a romantic, believing that love could solve all the problems that stood between them. Of course it hadn't. There had been no understanding, and so it had just pushed them further apart.

"Your happiness matters to me," he told Sabé, knowing full well that he couldn't possibly make her happy, and feeling the truth of it like a blade to his heart.

She gave a twitch of a smile. "Your friendship will see me through."

"But is it enough?" He knew it wasn't, however much they both cherished it.

"It will have to be," she said, her face a picture of resolute purpose.

He studied her, not missing the subtle tremble that had taken her over. He wondered just how much she was keeping inside. Although it was clear that they were both on the same page, Obi-Wan found the careful vagueness somewhat clumsy. He wasn't sure why.

"You haven't said it," he pointed out, thinking of Satine's desperate declaration on board the _Coronet_ , and again in their final parting.

"No," Sabé agreed, cheeks reddening slightly. She dropped her gaze to the floor, curling her hands protectively around each other.

"Why?" He knew he was not demonstrating his usual tact, but he found he couldn't leave the question unasked.

"Is there any need?" she answered snappishly, defensive in her discomfiture. "It's pointless. And I know it's stupid, but frankly it would hurt to…to not hear it said back."

He nodded, keen to move away from the topic and save them both the unease. "I understand."

"No, you _don't_!" Sabé suddenly burst forth, surprising him with the fierce, snapped statement. "You…you can't possibly understand what it's like for those of us who can't use the Force to heal." One by one, her opinions slipped from her, her pent-up emotions erupting in a torrent of concealed truths. "To know that you'll always be parted from the one person you want to hold closest. To know that you've forever altered, perhaps irreparably, your friendship with that person. To know that you'll carry on, even though it will mean being alone, because it's the right thing to do. And you will do all of this without the aid of a… _higher power_." She came to an abrupt halt, her dark eyes bright with emotion, her cheeks flushed as the speech, which she seemed to have been concealing for some time, forced its way out of her head.

He wanted to stop the breaks in her voice as her calm demeanour crumbled completely, giving way to her pain. Her eyes filled with tears as she went on, spitting out the words that were born of anger but full of honesty.

"I am prepared to do what I must," she continued, "regardless of what it really means for me, but don't tell me that you _understand_."

"Sabé, I do–"

"Stop!" she pleaded. "Please. Can't you see it hurts to hear you say that? You're a Jedi, you don't feel anything!"

They both fell silent, equally horrified.

Obi-Wan could do nothing but watch her face as she realised what she had done. She had bared her soul to him, seemingly unable to stop herself. He wanted nothing more than to make her haunted look dissolve, but he knew that as things stood at that moment it was beyond his power.

Sabé briefly closed her eyes, her whole demeanour one of defeat. "Gods, Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

In a trice he was level with her, his hands clutching her arms, his eyes fixed on hers. Sabé caught her breath, gazing up at him, innumerable emotions written all over her face. Whatever brief spark of annoyance he might have had, it had burned itself out. He felt only sadness and an overwhelming need to pull her into his arms.

"I feel," he told her earnestly. "I feel more than I should. And…" He trailed off, unsure how the sentence was going to end.

He hadn't dared acknowledge it aloud until that moment, but the simple statement was true. Was it love? He wasn't sure. Love was just a word. He knew only what he felt, and it was much, much more than he'd been aware of. There had been no grand sweeping gesture or dramatic declaration; that wasn't Sabé's style, or his. It had crept up on him gradually, like the tide on a beach, and he knew they would both face the consequences of their feelings. Eventually, they would have to let each other go, and they both knew it. It had been written from the start.

They stared at each other, not quite weak enough to move closer, not yet strong enough to drift apart. Obi-Wan gazed into the unnaturally bright eyes of his wife, the woman who'd stood by him, the woman who'd pulled him back from the darkness and asked nothing in return.

"So what do we do?" she asked in a whisper.

The trembling had returned, he could feel it. He wished he was able to make it stop. He sighed, and let one hand come up to cup her cheek. "We carry on."

Sabé nodded slightly. She knew that. She'd lived by those rules.

She moved her head, leaning into his touch for a trace of a second. Then she backed away, her steps slow, reluctant, but her expression resolute.

"It's nobody's fault," she said, not quite able to meet his gaze after the touch of intensity she had unwillingly unleashed. "Some things just…aren't meant to be. They never were. I always knew that. So…don't dwell on this, Obi-Wan. I'll be all right. I would never risk…"

"I know."

"The Council on Naboo will rule soon, I'm sure. Then we can go our separate ways. I…I think…that would be best." She stumbled over the words but determinedly kept going.

Obi-Wan couldn't argue with her logic, but the thought of moving away from the taste of domesticity they'd found made his heart ache. He felt a melancholy ripple in the Force, a clear direction towards meditation.

"I'm going to go and double check Padmé's weekly schedule," Sabé spoke up, a blatant excuse if ever he'd heard one.

"Of course."

As she departed for the small desk in her bedroom, Obi-Wan settled himself on the floor and sank into a trance. He could feel the censure of the Force, but it was not in the way he was expecting. If what he felt was love, it was somehow wrong. It was not supposed to hurt.

The more he reflected on the subject, the more he came to realise that it was the notion of going through life without Sabé at his side that cut him to the quick. His first thoughts were always for her, making sure she was all right, concern if he suspected she was not. He knew it was much more than simple compassion. The Force commended it, much to his surprise. He began to let go of his selfish need to have Sabé in his life, focusing instead on the things he loved about her, things he had no desire to possess. Steadily, the ache in his chest began to calm, and he felt the Force's approval. With such guidance he _would_ get through his troubled thoughts.

He hadn't forgotten his reflections on the Jedi Code, how he had contemplated the potential balance between love and duty. He just wasn't convinced that his theory held weight, or whether he was capable of such a balance in any case. As such, he chose not to speculate further, convinced that doing so would give him false hope. If there was a possibility that his feelings were meant to develop, the Force would show him when the time was right. Until that time, he had to forge his path forward as a Jedi.

It was too late to hope that Sabé wouldn't get hurt, but strangely enough his sense of guilt stayed dormant. She'd been stubborn about the points she'd tried to make, and he knew that she made her own choices and was prepared to deal with the consequences. He regretted that doing so would be difficult for her, but rather than guilt, what he felt was something much more humbling: a mild sense of awe that she loved him and refused to let it interfere with his life in the Jedi Order.

Strangely, the Force seemed to approve of that, and Obi-Wan reached out for it, letting its tranquillity soothe him. And if said tranquillity felt a lot like the peace and serenity of Sabé's presence, who was he to argue?

* * *

Sabé stared at the message on her data pad, the words blurring before her eyes. Blinking, she re-read it, and re-read it again before lowering the pad to her lap. She met her own wide-eyed gaze in her dressing table mirror, watching herself take deep breaths until she looked calm; a lot calmer than she felt. Giving herself a little nod, she got to her feet and turned away.

Obi-Wan was making caf, his back to her. His posture was relaxed, but tensed as he picked up on her emotional spike. Clenching her teeth, she squashed it down.

"What is it?" he asked, turning.

Sabé walked further into the room, offering him the data pad. "Queen Apailana has taken up the case and given a final ruling. She's dismantled the marriage law."

His brows rose fractionally in surprise, and he took the data pad to read the message for himself. "That was quick."

"Apparently she was more willing to overrule the opposition than Queen Neeyutnee was," she said with a shrug.

Obi-Wan met her gaze, and she pretended not to see the touch of concern in it. "So what happens now?"

"There'll have to be a formal announcement to enact the changes. That will probably be in a few days. After that…the Jedi Council will most likely demand our annulment."

"You'll still need protection while Daedrin is at large," he pointed out. "The Council won't abandon you."

She nodded, quashing more emotional reactions. _Annulment_. The word kept spinning through her head. The Council would demand annulment, not divorce. Divorce wouldn't be good enough. Divorce meant that their union had existed. Annulment would erase it completely, writing off the entire marriage as if it hadn't happened.

Sabé knew that such a thing was impossible in terms of her feelings and memories, and she was aware that she was overreacting, but still…she couldn't shake the feeling of sorrow when she thought about it. She needed to stop being so clingy. It didn't matter what the rest of the galaxy thought. Yes, she would have to move on, and yes, she was dreading it, but she knew she would always treasure the time they'd had together, developing their friendship into something as vital to her as breathing.

"Daedrin won't be a threat forever," Obi-Wan went on when she remained silent. "But the relationship between the Council and the Chancellor is a little too tense for them to start accusing a member of the inner circle."

Sabé nodded again. She knew that well enough, as she also knew that the Separatists would use any crack in the strength of the Chancellor and the Jedi's working bond to their advantage. They could not allow the Separatists to gain the upper hand.

"We'd better go and report to Padmé and the Jedi Council," Sabé said, finding her voice, pleased to note that it sounded level and blank. "It seems we have plans to make."

Obi-Wan wore a small frown at her words, but nodded in agreement. Caf forgotten, they set out for the Jedi Temple.

* * *

Padmé had received the same missive from the Naboo courts, and she'd instantly known what Sabé and Obi-Wan had come to talk to her about. Padmé had looked into it further, and had been glad to report that their presence was not requested in Theed. She didn't really have the time to schedule in a trip.

She was still suffering from a bombardment of dreams, and had experienced a particularly terrifying night when the shadowy figure she saw had worn Anakin's face. The man himself had been more distant than ever, still worrying over Ahsoka's absence. Whenever Padmé did see him, he looked at her with a strange and concerning edge of suspicion. It was subtle, but she saw it, and she wondered if he was even aware that he was projecting it. It caused her immediate alarm. She'd done nothing wrong, but she knew her thoughts were leading her to a place where she would cause him pain, and she hadn't quite managed to forget how he'd scared her at the gala. She was certain he didn't know the truth of her feelings, but she feared that he would somehow see it when he looked at her. She wanted nothing more than for the war to be over, so she could talk to him and get everything out in the open.

It seemed the Separatists had other ideas, though.

While she was talking to Sabé and Obi-Wan, Gregar entered the room, clearing his throat politely.

"What is it, Captain?" Padmé asked.

Gregar sent them all an apologetic look. "I'm sorry to interrupt, M'lady, but I've just had word from one of my uncle's officers back home. He reports that someone matching Count Dooku's description has been spotted in the western forest on the outskirts of Theed. He was apparently accompanied by a young woman with short, dark hair."

Padmé looked at him in surprise. The report was vague, but…

"Do you think it's that woman, Nadini?" Sabé spoke up, showing that her thoughts had taken a similar route to Padmé's own.

"I don't know," Gregar admitted, "but I made sure that all officers had her description. Daedrin's too."

"If it _is_ her and she's allied herself with Dooku," Obi-Wan added, a hand cupping his chin, "this matter just got a lot more serious."

Padmé quashed a sigh. It seemed the Order of Sanctuary murders were about to become part of the war. Perhaps it would work to their advantage. It they could successfully link Nadini to Daedrin, his protection as one of the Chancellor's favourites would be compromised.

"The Temple is on the far side of the western forest," Sabé said, her voice grave.

Padmé glanced at her, surprised at the quick, casual way she'd given up the location. "Do you think they're finally moving against it?"

"I don't know, but I want to go back and help."

Obi-Wan turned to her. "I'll need to get permission from the Council," he told her, and Sabé wrinkled her nose.

For a moment, Padmé thought that Obi-Wan was fighting a small smile, but the flicker was gone before she was sure she'd even seen it.

"I know you want to go right away," the Jedi Master went on, "but we must consider whether this could be a trap to lure you to the Temple's actual location."

Sabé huffed a sigh, but nodded. "I guess."

"It will be harder for Dooku to hide a large number of troops than just himself," Gregar put in. "Since it seems to be just be the two of them for now, I think we have some time."

"Not much," Sabé said cynically.

"No, but enough," Obi-Wan assured her, earning himself a tiny, genuine smile.

Padmé watched them with interest, noting the relaxed way they interacted, seeing their closeness despite the fact that their conduct was entirely proper. With a pang she realised she was a little jealous, wishing she had that seemingly-effortless closeness with someone. She'd had it once, and had pushed it aside. Her jealousy was self-inflicted.

Unable to help it, she slid her gaze to Gregar, noting at once that he saw what she did. He sent her a conspiratorial look, raising one eyebrow. She bit back a smile. It was difficult not to feel happy that Sabé had met her match, even though they all knew it couldn't last. Padmé only hoped that when they did inevitably part, Sabé wouldn't be too hurt.

Padmé dismissed Moteé and Ellé early that night, determined to get a decent night's sleep. The Jedi Council had agreed to look into the reports from Naboo, and Padmé hoped they made a decision quickly. She was convinced that Sabé would travel back as soon as she could regardless, and she wondered whether she should try and schedule in a visit after all.

Swallowing a gulp of water to wash down the sleep aid that Moteé had insisted she take, Padmé settled into the comfort of her sheets. She slipped into a breathing exercise she'd learned while training with the handmaidens, calling up a relaxing image. Her mind provided a view of the lake at Varykino, but that just reminded her of her wedding, and her guilt made her shove it aside. She recalled the view from her bedroom at the palace, and made herself focus on the gardens she could see. Eventually, she drifted off into a light sleep.

* * *

"Who is he?" Anakin raged at her.

She was afraid in the face of his anger, so very afraid.

"Who is who?"

"Tell me who he is! I _know_ there's someone!"

His eyes pinned her in place with their cold intensity, unnaturally bright and sickly yellow. His pallor was pale with rage, teeth bared in a snarl.

"No one!" she gasped.

"Don't lie to me!" he spat, throwing out a hand, fingers clenched.

She felt her throat close up, the tightness around her neck making it impossible to breathe.

"Anakin…you're…hurting…"

"You betrayed me," he insisted, his voice a monotone manifestation of his fury. " _No one_ betrays me."

She struggled, desperate for air, her vision spotting and blurring. His inhuman face was all she could see, those yellow eyes filled with hatred so intense it made her want to shrink away.

He waved his hand, tossing her aside. She hit the wall and fell, and fell, and fell, tumbling over and over in a well of endless darkness. She still couldn't breathe, could barely muster a scream. Death was cold and empty.

And then she was sitting up, breathing so hard she thought she might hyperventilate, limbs shaking.

 _Bed_ , Padmé thought idly, _I'm still in bed._

The remnants of the dream appeared every time she blinked, and she balled her hands into fists, grabbing the sheets just to make sure they were real. She'd screamed, or thought she had. There was no movement from Moteé and Ellé's room on the other side of the wall, however, and she realised her cries had only happened in the dream.

She was now sickeningly familiar with the aftermath of nightmares, but this one had been so intense, so real, and was taking its time in leaving her. Clumsily, she shuffled to the edge of the bed, sitting with her feet on the floor, leaning forward so that her head was between her knees. Biting her tongue, she let the pain give her focus. She counted, regulating her breathing until she was sure she wouldn't slip into a panic attack.

 _I can't go back to sleep like this_.

Padmé stood up cautiously, still shaking, and padded to the door. She needed to walk off some nervous energy until the nightmare faded in her mind. She'd never had a panic attack before, she wasn't about to start over visions that hadn't been real.

 _But they could be_ , a nasty little voice whispered in her head. _You know he's capable of it. You've seen it before._

 _No,_ she hissed back, _Anakin wouldn't hurt me._

 _He might. If you hurt him first…_

Shoving the voice to the back of her mind, Padmé made her way down to the veranda lounge, not really sure where she was going. The marble floor was cool on her bare feet. The faint breeze whispering through the particle shield blew her nightgown around her legs, chilling the sweat on her body and making her shiver. She didn't bother to turn on the lights, preferring to keep her distress hidden in the darkness. She'd never known terror quite like what she'd felt in dreaming. And the fact that it had been Anakin…

She didn't _want_ to believe that he was capable of such things, but she knew deep down that he was. An entire village of Tusken Raiders proved that.

The tears that had been curiously absent so far suddenly spilled down her cheeks, an outlet for her turmoil of emotions. Dizzy, Padmé sank to her knees on the floor, sobbing as quietly as she could. She placed her palms flat on the marble, trying to ground herself, worn down by exhaustion and distress.

A light appeared at the edge of her vision, spilling out into the corridor leading off the lounge. Then came footsteps, at first slow and curious, then faster. Gregar dropped to one knee by her side, his hands gripping her shoulder and back.

"Are you okay, M'lady?" he asked urgently.

Padmé didn't even waste time wondering what he was still doing in the apartment, she was just so very glad to see him.

"Yes," she managed to say unconvincingly.

"Can you stand?"

"I think so."

Leaning on him for support, she got to her feet. The trembling in her limbs was still there, but it had lessened since she'd been awake. He led her to the curved sofa, making sure she wouldn't collapse again. She wiped her tears away, finding that the flow had stopped as suddenly as it had come.

"I'll fetch Moteé," he said, turning to go.

"No, don't." Her hand shot out to catch his wrist.

He stopped, looking down at her with obvious concern. "Let me get the light, at least."

"It's not dark in here," Padmé pointed out truthfully. Coruscant was never completely dark. The pinpricks of light from the constant traffic painted the veranda lounge in wavering flickers.

"What happened, M'lady?" he asked gently. "What can I do?"

She paused, wondering what to say. 'I had a bad dream' sounded pathetic considering the state she was in.

"Sit with me," she said. "Please."

He looked a little bewildered but did as she asked. Padmé studied him, taking in the familiar lines of his face. He'd abandoned his outer tunic, wearing a loose-fitting shirt of blue or grey. She couldn't tell in the night light.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Working. I didn't feel tired. But we shouldn't be talking about me, M'lady."

"Stop calling me that," she snapped.

He looked taken aback, and she regretted her harshness.

"I…I had another dream," she explained hesitantly. "A nightmare. It…it was Anakin. Only…he _wasn't_. I don't know how to describe it. He said I had betrayed him. He…choked me, threw me aside. I woke up, but the dream was still with me. I've never known anything like it. It scares me. _He_ scares me."

Gregar frowned, looking at her sharply. "He does? I didn't know that. But it was just a nightmare, M'l…" He cut himself off.

"But that anger. That impulsiveness and jealousy…that's him. That's _real_."

At the back of her mind, Padmé knew how unfair it was that she'd had a nightmare about Anakin, and had run from it only to find the one person who could make her feel safer. If it was fate, it felt incredibly cruel. She could almost _see_ how the galaxy was pushing her towards Gregar, and if she had been feeling clearer-headed she might have questioned it, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. She was so very tired of it all. She was tired of being afraid, and she was tired of lying.

"That's the reason why I know he'll…he'll never let me go," she added quietly.

He was staring at her in open shock, the confusion written all over his face.

Padmé swallowed hard, continuing in a tone barely above a whisper. "I…I made a terrible mistake, Gregar."

He reacted instantly to her use of his name, head tilting in her direction.

"I made a terrible mistake," she said again, "and I don't know if I'll be able to fix it."

Gregar met her gaze, seeming unsure what to say. When he spoke, his voice caught on the words. "What…are you saying?"

"Everything is…all wrong. And it's my fault." She pressed her hands together in agitation, squeezing her fingers. "You have no idea how much I regret…everything. I was so stupid. So naive. I misjudged _so_ many things. Especially you."

Although he seemed to comprehend what she was talking about, he looked as if he was having a hard time believing he was hearing it.

"You…regret marrying him because he scares you?" he asked after a pause, a defensive hard edge to his voice.

"No," she replied at once. "Well…yes, but not just because of that. I regretted it long before. I regretted it almost immediately."

"Why?"

Padmé stared at him, finding the words stuck in her throat. They'd remained unsaid for so long, she was afraid to speak them aloud. She was afraid he'd never forgive her. In fact, she expected him not to. She'd ruined his happiness as well as her own and Anakin's. She fully expected to find herself alone. It was no less than she deserved.

He was watching her intently, his expression guarded but showing a little of his trepidation, as well as something that could have been hope.

"You know why," she said at length.

Gregar sighed heavily. "I thought I did, once."

She turned to him, saying earnestly, "In my dream…Anakin said I betrayed him. That's why he choked me. He…knew I was in love with someone else. He wanted to know who."

"It was just a dream."

"But don't you see? It's on my conscience. I'm going to hurt him because…I never stopped…" She took a breath and finished the sentence. "…I never stopped loving you," she said in a whisper.

He looked away, clenching his jaw, appearing to grapple with his emotions before speaking. "I just want to know why," he muttered, his voice curious, laced with faded sorrow. "Why did you do it?"

"I was angry and upset. I guess I hoped that you'd change your mind, that things would somehow work out," she admitted. "Then it became clear that our relationship was just professional. Anakin came back into our lives and he was so open with his feelings. I was…overwhelmed by it. I know I should have known better. It was all so…different. I convinced myself that you'd moved on, that you'd…stopped loving me."

He glanced up at her in disbelief.

"By the time I realised I was wrong," she went on, "it was too late. I thought maybe I could make the marriage work, but I can't. I tried. It's…a lie. I thought I could help him fight the darkness inside him, but…he relies too much on me. He thinks he can't live without me. And I don't know how I'm going to make him understand." She fought back another onslaught of crying. "He'll always have a place in my heart, but it's not the one he wants." She dashed away the trickle of tears with the back of her hand. "He's _so_ possessive of me…so _angry…_ I just…" Helplessly running out of things to say, she fell silent.

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond to this," Gregar confessed.

"You don't have to," she said at once. "I already know how much I've hurt you. How much I've hurt _all_ of us. I don't expect you to forgive me. I just…wanted you to know the truth. Regardless of whatever you decide…I can't keep living as I have been. I was going to wait until the war was over, but…I _have_ to end it… I just don't know how." She halted, staring at the patterns in the floor. "I'm…afraid," she said matter-of-factly.

Silence hung between them for a long moment. Then Gregar sighed, all of the tension leaving his body. With a little hesitation, he reached for her hand, and Padmé gratefully twined her fingers through his, taking the offer of reassurance.

"I was hurt," he said at length. "I was angry too. But…we've been through so much since we made those choices. I know I didn't help matters either, so…I forgive you. If you can forgive me."

"For what?" Padmé said with a frown. "I was the one who hurt you."

"But I was the one who put duty before your happiness. And mine." He glanced down at their clasped hands, shaking his head. "I was so convinced I was making the right choice. Doing the noble thing. Then the war happened and the galaxy got a little darker. And I look at Sabé and Obi-Wan, and I'm convinced that circumstances are going to hurt them in the end, and…" He sighed heavily. Padmé said nothing, waiting for him to find his words. "I think maybe they love each other. Truly love each other. But his duty to the Jedi and hers to the Order…they'll never turn away from those paths. And it kills me to think that my friends are going to make the same choice I did, and I'm wondering how I could have done that to myself when I can't stand watching them do the same thing. Seeing that, if I had to do it over again…I'd make a different choice."

"So would I," Padmé said simply.

Cautiously, she shifted sideways, leaning her head on his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, she felt Gregar rest his cheek against her hair, and she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of peace and comfort.

They sat in comfortable silence for a long time, long enough for Padmé to almost feel herself drifting back to sleep. Then Gregar spoke up again, his tone soft.

"Where do we go from here?"

"I'm going to end things with Anakin," Padmé said decisively. "As soon as I can. And then…I don't know. I…guess that's up to you," she added, almost shyly.

Gregar pulled back from her, making her sit up. He caressed her cheek and rested his hand there, his touch light, as if he expected to have to withdraw it at any moment.

"Do you really want this?" he asked her earnestly. "Do you really want…me?"

Her heart clenched at the uncertainty in his questions. She covered his hand with her own, stroking the back of his fingers with her thumb.

"Yes," she answered firmly.

His face lit up with a smile, although it was tempered with a touch of disbelief. He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, and Padmé smiled.

"I know you're…still with Anakin," he said quietly. "And we won't go any further until you end it, but…I feel like I need to say it. I love you, Padmé Naberrie. Always have, always will."

Padmé accepted the words with a soft sigh, taking in his deliberate use of her birth name and the knowledge that he valued _her_ in a galaxy that looked to her to be Amidala almost constantly.

"I love you too, Gregar Typho," she responded at once. She rested her head back on his shoulder, the one act of closeness she would permit herself until she was free. Belatedly, Padmé knew she should still feel guilty, but she couldn't regret the solace she found there with Gregar. She'd face it again in the morning. For the moment, she needed the peace his presence brought her.

* * *

 **A/N:** Check out sobi-fans on Tumblr for my OC faceclaims post, as well as other Sobiwan goodness :)


	26. Combat on Temple Grounds

**A/N:** I'm not good at battle scenes, yet they seem to end up in everything. I clearly do not learn. Mild battle violence/horror ahead.

Thank you for the lovely guest review! I'm glad you enjoy my writing, thanks for commenting :)

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Six – Combat on Temple Grounds.**

"I'm going back to Naboo," Sabé announced to an unsurprised Padmé the following morning.

Padmé eyed her with amusement. "Did the Council approve?"

"They haven't said yet, but they can't stop me," Sabé pointed out stubbornly. "I've alerted the Temple to the situation, but I can't just sit here knowing they might be under attack at any moment. You understand that, right?"

Padmé nodded, recalling the countless times she'd given her security teams heart attacks by hastily running to someone's rescue.

"We all understand it, Sabé," Obi-Wan put in, "that doesn't mean it's a wise course of action."

The look she sent him was unimpressed. "Obi-Wan, there is not a single person in this room who hasn't blatantly ignored the wise course of action on multiple occasions."

Padmé shrugged guiltily when Obi-Wan glanced her way, and Gregar folded his arms, amused.

"Be that as it may," the Jedi went on, "as your protector it would be remiss of me not to strongly advise against recklessness."

Sabé studied him with narrowed eyes. "So…that's it? You're just advising against it?"

"I am," Obi-Wan stated.

"But if I ignored you and went anyway?"

"I would be duty bound to go with you, of course."

Sabé cracked a smile that Obi-Wan did not return, but Padmé thought she saw the corner of his lips twitch.

"I'm going too," Padmé declared. "I've reconsidered my decision not to visit Queen Apailana to discuss the termination of the marriage law."

"How convenient," Gregar said dryly.

"Isn't it?" Padmé agreed, refusing to be ruffled, even in jest. "I'll take you and Sabé for security."

"What about Moteé?" Sabé asked. "She won't want to be left out if the Temple is at risk."

"I know," Padmé answered with regret, "but I'd rather she was here to keep an eye on Ellé. I'll talk to her about it."

She knew Sabé would be glad to avoid that particular conversation, and she could see as much from the expression of relief that the handmaiden tried to hide.

"When do we leave?" Sabé asked.

"This afternoon, after my meeting with Orn Free Taa. I can't cancel it."

Sabé sent her an understanding nod. "Okay."

"Am I to assume that you'll want to accompany Sabé and Obi-Wan to the Temple itself?" Gregar asked nonchalantly.

Padmé read between the lines and picked out his real question. "I don't intend to put myself in harm's way," she assured him. "But they could use the help."

He nodded, albeit with a touch of reluctance. "Just don't die on me," he said eventually. "I don't want to have to explain that to my uncle."

"I don't intend on dying anytime soon," Padmé retorted with a tiny smile.

The sound of droid footsteps coming down into the lounge caught her attention, and she turned, words fading on her tongue at the sight of who Threepio was leading.

"Anakin," she said, belatedly kicking herself for letting her surprise leak into her voice.

Her husband tensed slightly, but sketched a formal bow. No doubt he was mindful of Obi-Wan's presence in the room.

"Senator," Anakin began. "I'm here to inform you that my squadron of clone troopers will be escorting you to Naboo. The Council anticipated your plans to return. Since Count Dooku has been spotted in the location, this is now a military issue."

Padmé inwardly winced at his detached tone. "The Council is very thoughtful to spare us a squadron. We depart at 16:00 hours."

Anakin nodded in response. "We'll meet you at the landing platform."

"Thank you," she answered formally.

Anakin's eyes briefly flicked to where Padmé knew Obi-Wan was standing before they returned to settle on her. Blue eyes, she reassured herself. Not that sickening yellow from her nightmare. Perhaps there would be an opportunity to talk to him on Naboo. Her heart clenched in fearful anticipation of the conversation, but she knew she had to do it. For all their sakes, she had to.

* * *

Sabé tracked her way through the western forest, her allies behind her. Obi-Wan marched at her side, the others forming up not far back. Padmé had insisted on coming, and both Anakin and Gregar stuck close beside her. Despite Padmé's obvious discomfort at such a juxtaposition, Sabé was glad she would be so well protected. A squadron of white-armoured troopers fanned out behind them, led by the ever-capable Captain Rex.

Sabé was mindful of what they'd most likely be facing. Daedrin was a fool if he attacked the Temple with anything less than a full squadron behind him, and the presence of Count Dooku – despite the fact that they hadn't been seen together – implied that he had exactly that.

In a hasty briefing between the Jedi, Rex, Gregar and herself, they had decided to move swiftly and stealthily through the forest. As stealthily as soldiers clad in white _could_ move through a forest, in any case. She glanced down at the olive-coloured jumpsuit and black vest she'd chosen for herself and wondered why she'd tried to blend in at all. Walking beside the squadron rendered it entirely pointless.

The plan was either to come upon the Separatist forces and prevent them from reaching the Temple, or to get there first and help the Order lock the place down. But as they drew closer, Sabé had to accept with a sinking feeling that they were facing the third and least-favourable scenario that they had planned for: joining the battle late.

The noise filtering through the trees made their attempts at covertness completely unnecessary, not to mention Sabé's role as navigator.

"Senator, I strongly advise that you remain here," Obi-Wan said to Padmé, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

"I agree," Anakin cut in before Padmé could answer. "You'll be safer here."

"That's not a guarantee," Padmé pointed out calmly. "Now let's go, we're wasting time."

"I won't allow you to–" Anakin went on.

Padmé intervened with sharp words. "I said we're wasting time. Captain Rex, lead your troops onward."

Rex, clearly uncomfortable at the conflict between two people who outranked him, looked to Obi-Wan instead.

"Move out, Captain," Obi-Wan said quietly.

"But Master–" Anakin tried again.

"Focus on the battle, Anakin," Obi-Wan counselled. "The senator will be well protected by Captain Typho."

Anakin looked poised to argue again, and Sabé turned away with a huff, continuing on towards the Temple. She held her blaster ready, comforted by the reassuring weight of her sword across her back. She didn't expect to use it, but she liked knowing it was there.

A scream pierced the relative hush of the woods, and Sabé broke into a run. Rex's troops flanked her, dots of white on green in her peripheral vision. They were beyond being stealthy anyway.

"Sabé, wait!"

She disregarded Obi-Wan's yell, knowing he was more than capable of catching up with her. Instead, she broke through the first line of trees with the troops, emerging into a small clearing dominated by a huge, stone structure. The Order's temple was in a similar vein to others she'd seen throughout the galaxy, tall and built of mossy grey stone, a structure to sit naturally amongst the greenery around it. She had never seen it crawling with battle droids before, and the sight turned her insides cold.

Hastily, she dove behind the outer wall, taking cover and periodically stretching up to fire over the top of it. The troopers were doing likewise, and the droids were starting to take notice. The Order members were putting up a valiant fight, and the number of deactivated droids outweighed fallen warriors significantly. Still, Sabé knew not to get complacent. There was still Dooku, Daedrin and Nadini to worry about.

A flurry of movement next to her signalled Obi-Wan's arrival, and she send him a quick nod.

"Please don't run off like that again," he said.

"I assumed you and Anakin would go and track down Dooku."

"If I could persuade him to leave Padmé, I would do so," he muttered grimly. "I'm not prepared to take the Count on alone."

"Surely Anakin must realise that."

"You would think," Obi-Wan growled, the closest to angry she'd seen him in a long time.

Considering for a moment, Sabé reached up to activate the com in her ear. "Sabé to Typho, do you copy?"

"Typho here."

"Get Padmé to a safe place, Anakin needs to help Obi-Wan find Dooku."

"If I thought she would go…" Gregar mumbled, clearly attempting to hide his words from the others.

"Try and tell her it can be temporary, just as long as Anakin feels comfortable leaving her," Sabé snapped, exasperated.

Gregar's voice was laced with understanding, and the trace of annoyance that Anakin's behaviour seemed to be triggering in all of them. "I'll try. Typho out."

Obi-Wan sent her a glance, one eyebrow raised.

"It's worth a try," she defended with a shrug.

"Indeed."

In a blur of unnatural speed, Anakin joined them at their position, wearing an expression that was somehow half duty-bound determination and half petulant scowl.

"Let's find Dooku," he snapped.

"Let's," Obi-Wan agreed, wisely keeping his personal thoughts to himself. To Sabé he added, "Don't put yourself at risk unnecessarily."

"Likewise," she retorted at once.

They both knew that the need to capture Dooku outweighed Obi-Wan's duty to protect her. They hadn't even discussed it, seemingly in sync with their thoughts on the matter. He sent her a nod, then both Jedi were up and jogging away, joining the battle seemingly at random, their focus no doubt solely on seeking out the count. Sabé returned her own focus to the nearest droids, taking down one after another as the troops pressed forward towards the Temple.

"Gregar, is Padmé safe?" she asked, tapping her com.

"We're in a good position. I can cover her pretty well, and she can still fire at the droids like she wants to."

A faint feminine "Hey!" made Sabé briefly smile. "Good. Stay there if you can."

"Copy that. Take care."

"Will do."

She spotted three Order members taking cover a few metres ahead of her, including a silver-haired elder.

"I need to get there," she told the nearest trooper, pointing. "Can you cover me?"

"Of course, sir," came the efficient reply, complete with head nod.

"Oh…you…you don't have to 'sir' me. I'm not…that is, I don't think I outrank you."

"With respect, Lady Sabé, 'Lady Sabé' is a bit of a mouthful."

Sabé cracked a brief smile. "True. Sabé will do."

"As you wish, Sabé. I'll cover you."

"Thank you."

Exchanging a nod with her new ally, Sabé waited for an opportune moment, vaulting the low wall she was using as cover during a natural lull in blaster fire. She sprinted towards her sisters, hearing the occasional chirp of the trooper's blaster as he took out droids who planned to use her as target practice. She skidded down behind a fallen statue, sending grass and small, loose bits of gravel flying.

"Apologies, Elder Torré," she panted. "I wasn't able to make a more dignified entrance."

"You are forgiven, Sabé," the elder said with dry humour. She seemed entirely relaxed, despite their situation. The two warriors with her, however, appeared to share Sabé's heightened alertness, periodically straightening up to return fire over the statue.

"Have you seen the ringleaders of this attack?" Sabé asked, unwilling to waste time on more pleasantries.

"I have," Elder Torré said, her mouth twisting in a sneer. "The woman used to be one of us. She was leading the assassin to the records room. We couldn't stop them, there were too many droids. We beat a strategic retreat instead."

Sabé took in all the information, but found herself stuck on the first point. "Nadini used to be one of us?"

"Yes. At one time she was known as Larissé."

"I don't remember her."

"You wouldn't. She was here for a very brief time, and you were in service to the queen." Torré sighed deeply, shaking her head. "For a short while she was one of the most promising students we've ever had. But then we became aware of her love of violence. She took a great amount of satisfaction in beating her opponents, even to the point of injuring them during sparring. We began to realise that her brutal mind-set did not fit with our ideals. You know all too well how difficult it can be to be a warrior and yet not sacrifice our planet's peaceful nature. It's a delicate balance, one not easily maintained. Larissé was simply incapable of it, so we dismissed her."

Sabé's eyes widened. She knew how rare it was for a sister to be turned out of the Order.

"It seems she's taken it rather personally," Torré finished up with another gusty sigh.

"She's teamed up with Daedrin for some…petty vengeance?" Sabé said incredulously.

"Why are you so surprised?" Torré spoke up. "People will go a long way just to be petty, particularly for revenge."

With a frown, Sabé conceded the point. "I need to get to the records room," she announced decisively.

"They have it locked down. Why do you think we're out here?" Torré snapped.

"I understand, but I have to get in there. If I take the secret passages from the east side, I should come out close enough to take them by surprise. If Nadini…Larissé never graduated as a full Order member, then she won't know about the passages."

Torré looked thoughtful for a moment, seeming for all the galaxy as if the constant sound of blaster fire and yelling was simply the standard soundtrack to her day.

"That might work," she decided finally. "We'll come with you."

"I don't want to put you at risk, Elder," Sabé protested at once.

"We'll all at risk," Torré argued with conversation-stopping logic.

Unwilling to waste any more time in debate, Sabé gestured for Torré to lead the way, as was the right of her rank. Torré and her two dedicated followers took off at once, ducking to run alongside walls, taking cover where they could. Sabé brought up the rear, firing shots whenever a droid wandered into her range. In a lethally productive single-file procession, they made their way around the base of the building, towards the memorial stone in the grounds that marked the east entrance of the passages. Torré worked to move the stone aside while the rest of them covered, and it soon slid back with a protesting groan.

With startling abruptness Anakin and Obi-Wan rounded the far corner of the temple, locked in a furious battle with Count Dooku. Sabé stared, instantly distracted, awed and afraid at the speed of the three whirling blades. A dropped explosive from a fallen droid went off behind her, flinging her forward to skid across the grass with a grunt.

The harsh sound of a battle cry threw her instincts into overdrive, and she rolled herself up onto her knees, whipping the sword from her back as she moved. She brought it up just in time to block a jarring downward sweep. She felt the severe clash of the blades vibrate up her arms, making her jaw ache.

Nadini smirked at her, pressing the advantage of her aerial assault. Sabé clenched her teeth and pushed back with all her strength, keeping the blades as far from her skin as possible. A shot from Torré whistled past Nadini's ear, allowing Sabé the split second she needed to gain the advantage. Managing to get a foot under her, she found traction and pushed upwards, shoving Nadini backwards. Nadini regained her footing almost immediately, launching another attack. Sabé blocked her, keeping her eyes on the blade. The woman may have been cast out of the Order, but she had clearly remembered a lot of her training.

"Daedrin thought you'd come," Nadini said conversationally. "I'm disappointed that he's right. I thought you'd be smarter."

Sabé didn't deign to answer, focusing on seeking the upper hand. Idly, she was aware of the ongoing fight between the Force users not too far away, and she prayed that Obi-Wan wasn't worrying about her. He needed to avoid distractions as much as she did. More, in fact.

"Why did you yell when you attacked me?" Sabé asked her, curious despite their situation. "You could have taken me out."

"Where's the fun in that?" Nadini retorted. "Besides, I thought the Order was all about honourable battles."

Sabé blocked her again, and sent her a brief smile. "Usually it is, but…"

Nadini gave a grunt as Torré hit her across the back of the head, stumbling to the ground. Sabé kicked her blade away.

"I don't have time for that right now," she added, bringing the hilt of her sword down and knocking the woman unconscious.

"Get going," Torré ordered her with a jerk of her head. "I'll keep an eye on this one."

Sabé nodded, retrieving her fallen blaster and jogging over to the entrance of the passages. She could not resist a final look back at Obi-Wan and Anakin's fight, glad to note that they were both holding up against Dooku. It was difficult for her to turn her gaze away, but she made herself do it. She had her own job to do, and it wouldn't serve anyone for her to get caught up in her worries.

Determinedly facing forward, she descended the stone steps into the damp, dimly-lit corridor beneath the complex. One of Torré's companions followed her, the other remaining behind to help the elder.

"What's your name?" Sabé asked her as they walked.

"Ruté."

"Glad to have you standing with me, Ruté."

"Likewise, Sabé."

The secret passage emerged in an alcove behind a tapestry in one of the Temple's central corridors. Sabé peered out cautiously, squinting through the tapestry's tiny holes.

"Clear," she muttered, moving it aside.

On silent feet, the two of them glided through the corridor, stopping to listen every few steps. The sound of voices and clanking droids reached them only a short distance from the records room. Sabé was pleasantly surprised that they had seemingly only locked down the room and not the passages around it.

Glancing around a corner, she spotted two spindly droids guarding the entrance. She'd barely seen a battle droid since the fight for Naboo so many years ago. Seeing them again inevitably brought back memories, and she recalled trying to fight as a queen, knowing that Padmé's whole plan rested on her ability to fool them. Naively, she'd assumed that fighting in disguise would be the toughest challenge she'd ever face. How very young she'd been.

"Take the one on the left," Sabé hissed to Ruté, shoving her recollections aside.

Ruté gave a nod and levelled her blaster.

"Now!"

The two synchronised shots hit home, and the droids dropped noisily to the stone paving. Sabé waited, watching to see if another few droids would investigate, but it seemed they were smarter than that.

"Move out."

The two warriors left their cover, stepping over the droids to flatten their backs against the wall. Sabé leaned to look around the corner into the records room, and whipped her head back quickly when a blaster bolt pierced the air beside her. Annoyingly – but not unexpectedly – Daedrin was a good shot.

Mentally running through the weapons at her disposal, Sabé plucked a small capsule from a pouch on her belt. She bit off the safety seal, spitting it out, and threw the capsule into the room. It immediately began sputtering smoke, and she heard Daedrin cough. Dropping to one knee, Sabé glanced back around the corner, looking where the cloud was thinner close to the ground. With determined precision, she shot six droids in the leg.

"How long can you hold your breath?" Sabé asked.

Ruté sent her an amused look. "Long enough."

It was a less than ideal solution for dealing with smoke, but it was their only option. Taking in a deep lungful of air, Sabé charged into the records room. The cloud was already starting to disperse, enough for her to see Deadrin's shadowy, armoured form, and an additional four droids. She took out two before they could raise their rifles, and stifled a gasp as she saw Ruté leap for Daedrin. A droid fired, and Sabé dodged, returning the favour and catching it in its narrow midsection. The last one was aiming at Ruté, and Sabé blasted its head off before it could fire.

Taking advantage of his distraction, she came up behind Daedrin and gripped the side of his neck, pressing her blaster to his temple. He froze for an instant, then fired off a shot that had Ruté falling away with a cry of pain. As Sabé took in what he'd done, he spun, throwing off her grip. Sabé knocked his hand upwards, sending his blaster bolt up into the ceiling.

He recovered quickly, aiming at her head at the precise moment she aimed at his. For a long moment they stared at each other as the smoke cleared.

"So what now, Sabé?" he asked when the air was fresh enough for words. "We stand here until one of us drops dead?"

"Or you could lower your blaster," she answered him calmly. "That's an option."

Surprisingly he laughed, and she studied him with narrowed eyes, picking up on a strand of hysteria in his demeanour.

"I could," he agreed. "It's almost tempting, you know. This whole thing has just spiralled out of control."

"What do you mean?"

Deadrin disregarded her question, continuing on as if she hadn't spoken at all. "This whole time I thought I knew which side I was on, and now…" He laughed again, a short, bitter bark. "There aren't any. That's the big secret, Sabé. There aren't any sides."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped at him, losing patience with the cryptic words.

"Dooku's here," he stated, as if it explained everything. "The damned Separatists are backing me up, can you believe that?"

"So these attacks have been part of the war all along?" Sabé asked him.

"Seems so, doesn't it? Not that the war matters anymore. He wins either way."

"Who does? Dooku?"

Daedrin regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then smirked. "No. You won't get that out of me. I'd be dead for sure."

"You will be if you don't start making sense," she growled.

"Oh, Sabé," he said, mocking. "We both know you're not a cold-blooded killer."

"Never too late to learn," she said, although she knew it was pointless. He'd never buy her bluff.

Nearby, Ruté was struggling to a sitting position, clutching the wound at her side. Sabé kept her focus on Daedrin, determined not to give her away.

"Stand down," Daedrin ordered her, some of his customary sharpness returning.

"You first."

Ruté staggered to her feet. It wasn't a quiet move, and Sabé saw Daedrin's eyes flicker to the side as he was momentarily distracted. It wasn't long enough for her to act, however, and his gaze rapidly snapped back to her.

"Don't try it," he called to Ruté. "I could pull this trigger before you even raised your weapon."

"And she could pull hers," Ruté countered with a pain-filled growl. "Drop the blaster." She raised her arm to the back of his head, just as an exterior explosion rocked the room.

Ruté stumbled, and Daedrin harshly shoved her aside. Sabé took the opportunity, despite her unsteady feet, lunging at him and gripping his wrist. Once again, she aimed his blaster upwards, away from harm. She moved her right arm, bringing her own gun up, and he retaliated by returning the favour, catching her wrist in a tight grip.

Almost nose to nose, she briefly considered head butting him, but knew it would stun her too. Instead, she jerked up a knee, unbothered about fighting dirty when she knew she had to win. Daedrin grunted, hunching over, and his grip on her slackened enough for her to pull her hand free. Before she could aim, however, he kicked out at her knee, causing one leg to buckle. She lost her hold on his wrist, and he didn't hesitate to swing his blaster towards her. Out of options, Sabé recovered enough to aim and shoot.

Her blaster bolt hit him square in the chest, burning a hole through the plating of his armour. He looked surprised at first, dropping heavily to his knees, which put them on eye level once more. He coughed, and a trickle of blood leaked out the corner of his mouth, then he glared at her, as if it had been a personal insult that she had shot him.

Sabé was too shocked to react, even as her rational mind pondered _why_ she was shocked. Necessity had made her take lives before, after all. Then she felt the pain, seeping with hot, stinging fingertips across her abdomen. She hadn't been quick enough. Daedrin had fired at the same time she had.

Her shot had been the more accurate, however, and Daedrin slumped sideways, mismatched eyes fixed open, self-righteous fury frozen on his aristocratic features. Sabé felt herself fall too, dropping backwards onto the ground, which thankfully put Daedrin's body out of view.

She'd been shot before, enough to know that this one was the most serious wound she'd ever received. With a jolt of fear, she realised that her survival wasn't guaranteed. Ruté hadn't stirred, and gods knew how long it would take for someone to find them. Torré knew where they'd gone, but Sabé didn't know if the elder was even still alive. There was still a battle raging on the surface level.

 _Wait…just think._

Gritting her teeth, she reached up to press the button on her com. Every movement seemed to tug at her torn skin, and pained tears clouded her sight.

"S…Sabé to Typho," she said, wincing at her faltering words.

"Typho here."

"Gregar…"

Her jaw locked up as a fresh wave of pain caused her vision to briefly black out.

The single word seemed to be enough, though, and Gregar's voice cut through the oncoming unconsciousness.

"Sabé? What's happened? Where are you?"

"Records room," she mumbled. "Obi-Wan…"

The arm keeping the com activated trembled with effort, and darkness feathered the edges of her sight. Gregar was saying something else, but it got lost in the encroaching fog. Sabé was unconscious before her arm hit the ground.

* * *

 **A/N:** Oops, I did a cliffhanger.

Sobiweek kicks off today over on Tumblr! Come and check it out :)


	27. Kill or Cure

**A/N:** Wow, I got a lot of responses for that last chapter. Guess I should do cliffhangers more often.

To VLeiaJediKnight: Thank you so much, that's lovely to hear :)

To anon guest: Yes, this is a slightly darker version of Anakin. I knew that this portryal and the Padmé/Gregar pairing weren't going to be for everyone, which is why I included the warning note right at the very beginning.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven – Kill or Cure.**

When Gregar had relayed his worryingly-brief conversation with Sabé, Padmé hadn't known what to do first: locate Obi-Wan or the records room. Her priorities shuffled themselves neatly, and she left her cover in search of an Order warrior. As quickly as possible, she and Gregar moved sideways back to back, taking out droids where they saw them. The numbers had most definitely thinned, and Padmé began to tentatively believe they'd won the fight.

The first warrior they found was, understandably, surprised to see her.

"Senator Amidala!"

"I need your help," Padmé said urgently, holding the woman's gaze. "How do I get to the records room?"

"The…it's not possible, M'lady, the droids locked it down."

"There must be another way," Gregar pressed her.

The warrior looked thoughtful for a split second, then her eyes widened a fraction. "The secret passages might be clear."

"Take me there," Padmé commanded her.

Ducking low to avoid any additional fire, the three of them traced the same path that Sabé had taken less than twenty minutes earlier. It took no time at all to introduce Torré, who was still guarding the unconscious Nadini and the entrance to the passage, and to learn from her exactly what had happened.

"We need to go down there," Padmé said decisively. "Can you carry on watching here?"

Torré nodded. "Of course, M'lady. Take Coralé with you."

Padmé returned the nod, looking to the warrior she'd first spoken to. "Lead the way."

"Padmé?" Anakin called to her from not far off, and she glanced up. "Senator," he amended swiftly.

Padmé took in the sight of his uninjured figure with a wave of relief, quickly spying Obi-Wan behind him kneeling next to the crumpled form of Count Dooku. She didn't have the luxury of a moment to consider _that_ little detail.

"Obi-Wan!" she yelled, throwing decorum to the wind. "I need you!"

Anakin's puzzled and slightly irritated look made her wish she'd phrased herself better, but she didn't have time to worry over it. Obi-Wan, no doubt picking up on the concern in her voice, jogged over at once, Anakin on his heels.

"What is it?"

"It's Sabé," she explained simply. "Come with me."

Obi-Wan followed her at once, a little crease of worry knitting his brows. Coralé led them down the stone steps. Those with blasters kept them aimed at the floor in readiness. The Jedi kept their lightsabers out but not ignited. The buzz of a lightsaber could be a giveaway to their position.

At Padmé's insistence, they moved as quickly as they dared, not wanting to be surprised by any droids, but there were none that Sabé and Ruté had not already taken out. When they reached the records room, Coralé rushed for Ruté's body as soon as she'd checked the place was clear. The others hurried for Sabé while Anakin examined Daedrin.

"He's dead," he reported, glancing at Sabé. "Is she…?"

"She's alive," Obi-Wan said, taking Sabé's pulse. "But she'll die if she doesn't get help immediately."

Padmé shot a look over her shoulder at Coralé. "Your friend?" she asked impatiently.

"Alive," Coralé informed her. "The med centre is on the third floor, but I don't know if our medic is still alive."

"Go and find out," Padmé told her. "Bring the medic back with you, or…supplies, at least."

Coralé nodded, scrambled to her feet and bolted.

"Sabé needs aid now," Gregar said quietly.

Padmé shared a desperate look with him before turning to Obi-Wan. "You've been studying healing, haven't you?" she asked him urgently.

"Yes," he replied, an edge of uncharacteristic doubt colouring his voice.

"You've only healed minor stuff," Anakin cut in, looking at his former master with concern. "It took you weeks to cure a headache!"

"I know, Anakin," Obi-Wan answered distractedly, grim-faced. "But I have to try."

"Master Yoda says there is no try," Anakin fired back. "And I'm sorry, but you're not up to this."

Padmé bit her tongue, not wanting to get between them, even as she was inwardly screaming at Obi-Wan to do _something_. Sabé was unconscious, pale, her breathing shallow. The shot had hit her stomach, burning a ragged hole through clothing and flesh. Padmé had never felt more helpless, faced with a seriously injured friend that she couldn't aid, mindful of all the times Sabé had saved _her_.

Obi-Wan met her gaze across Sabé's prone form, and she silently willed him to help. He took a deep, centring breath, and she saw his shoulders lose some of their tension. Reaching out, he pressed his right palm to Sabé's forehead, his left lightly covering her wound. His eyes drifted shut, and he went absolutely still.

Kneeling on Sabé's other side, Padmé held her breath, mindful of Gregar doing the same not far away. Anakin let out a noisy exhale, either angry at the situation or exasperated with Obi-Wan, she couldn't tell. Fortunately, he didn't intervene, perhaps thinking that it would be harmful if he did.

Long minutes dragged by, and there was no change. Padmé bit her lip anxiously. Deep down she knew that Obi-Wan hadn't studied long enough to heal a wound as serious as Sabé's. It seemed impossible that he would find the means. But he loved Sabé, she believed that with her whole heart. Perhaps the Force would find a way, channel those feelings, that energy into something powerful.

"This has gone on too long," Anakin said, his voice laced with worry. "He's going to kill himself."

Padmé turned startled eyes to him. "What?"

"He doesn't have the power for this, Padmé. He can't heal her without sacrificing some of his own life force."

He took a few steps towards Obi-Wan, and Padmé made some involuntary move that had Anakin shooting her a stern look.

"I have to stop him," he told her.

"But she'll die."

"If I don't, _he'll_ die," Anakin argued.

Padmé glanced at Gregar, sharing a look of concern. Swapping the loss of Sabé for the loss of Obi-Wan was an unacceptable scenario, but to give up felt like losing faith in Obi-Wan's abilities.

At that moment, however, Obi-Wan made the decision for them. He lifted his hands away from Sabé before promptly keeling over. Anakin dropped to one knee, checking for a pulse, then lightly slapping his cheek.

"Is he alive?" Gregar asked.

"Yes, but he's out cold," Anakin reported.

Padmé, meanwhile, examined Sabé, finding her still unconscious. But her heartbeat was stronger, and the wound, although still in need of urgent attention, looked shallower and less angry.

"Can you check the other warrior?" she asked Gregar, feeling guilty that she'd all but disregarded her in favour of Sabé.

He did so, saying, "She needs care, but I don't think it's too serious."

A clatter of footsteps signified the arrival of Coralé and the medic, along with several Order members and Elder Torré.

"The battle is over," she announced to the room. "We have Larissé in custody. Count Dooku appears to be dead."

Padmé received the news with interest, sending a look in Anakin's direction. His expression clearly indicated that he'd been the one to deal the killing blow.

"He was too dangerous to leave alive," Anakin said flatly.

Torré did not reveal whether she agreed or not, turning her attention to her injured warriors and the Jedi. With the help of many hands, Sabé, Obi-Wan and Ruté were carried through the war-torn Temple, up to the med bay. The medic distributed her staff, tending to Sabé's wound, which seemed to be the most serious. Obi-Wan was given a cursory examination, but there did not appear to be anything wrong with him. He was simply unconscious.

"I'm sure he'll wake up in his own time," Padmé said to an irked Anakin, trying to reassure him.

"You don't know that," he snapped.

"Have faith in his capabilities. He's a strong man."

But Anakin didn't seem to be in the mood for her assurances, shrugging off her words and stalking out of the med bay.

Padmé left him to his own devices, unwilling to leave Sabé. Gregar stayed with her, as much for her sake, she suspected, as Sabé's.

After receiving bacta treatment and rehydration, Sabé's eyelids fluttered open, and it wasn't long before she was pressing Padmé for an update. Padmé summed everything up as succinctly as possible, then left her to sleep. The medic firmly ordered them out, stating that they needed to focus on self-care for a few hours. Elder Torré offered her use of a spare room, courteously apologising for its tiny size and bare walls. Padmé waved off her concern, thanking her before letting her get back to her duties.

"I'll stand guard while you rest," Gregar told her.

"No," Padmé argued. "You're tired too. I'm sure one of the clone troopers can guard. Besides, I doubt anyone else is going to attack now that the ringleaders are gone."

He looked a touch reluctant, but obviously saw sense in her words, as he conceded with a nod. "I'll find someone anyway," he said. "Rest well. I'll wake you if I hear any change about Sabé."

She sent him a grateful smile. "Thank you. Rest well, Gregar."

Her nightmares and the excitement of the battle had left her weary, and she found herself drifting off despite her worries about her injured friends. She only hoped the dreams would leave her alone for a few hours. That was all she asked.

* * *

Cleared to get up and updated on the whole situation, Sabé made her way to Obi-Wan's location, unable to clear her worried frown. She'd been horrified to learn what he'd done for her, knowing full well that he wasn't strong enough to heal a wound like hers. There was no doubt that his actions had saved her life, held death far back enough for the healers and bacta to do their jobs. He'd done for her what he could not have done for Satine. She was humbled and grateful, but overwhelmingly guilty. It had been several days, and he'd shown no signs of waking.

Captain Rex stood guard at the entrance of the tent that had been set up in the Temple grounds. Obi-Wan had been moved from the med bay when the space was needed for those with more serious conditions, and now lay in one of the temporary military centres that the clone troopers had erected. Rex nodded to her as she passed him, and she slipped between the loose flaps of canvas at the entrance.

Obi-Wan lay on an uncomfortable-looking medical bed, to all intents and purposes appearing as if he was simply taking a nap. His breathing was deep and even, his face free of pain or concern.

Sabé approached, taking his hand, feeling it cool and calloused beneath her fingers. She swallowed hard, pondering the likelihood of him hearing her.

"You saved my life," she spoke up quietly, mindful of Rex a mere six feet and one sheet of fabric away. "I know you won't consider that a big deal, Master Jedi, but… Gods…" She trailed off, searching for the right words. Her abdomen ached through its topical bacta patch, and she marvelled that she was present to feel it at all. "I'm grateful," she went on. "I really am. But also…that was so stupid, Kenobi. I don't want you to heal me if it means you put yourself in this state." She squeezed his hand, as if she could pierce the haze of his unconsciousness with her fingertips and pull him out of it. "Please wake up," she whispered, hearing her fear underline the words. "I know you're strong enough. Please."

She didn't want to consider the possibility that he might not. She wasn't sure how she would live with herself.

"What are you doing in here?"

At the sound of Anakin's cold, angry voice, she turned to glance over her shoulder, a frown of confusion creasing her brow.

"What?"

"You shouldn't be here," he said, stalking further into the tent. His tall presence made the tiny space feel much smaller, and she felt a bizarre flutter of alarm.

"I'm just visiting him," she said defensively. "Same as you."

"If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be like this," Anakin spat out. "It's your fault."

"Obi-Wan makes his own decisions," she told him firmly. She felt guilty, and to an extent she blamed herself too, but she couldn't agree wholeheartedly with his accusations. She'd spoken the truth, and knew that Obi-Wan would have selflessly made the decision to help her – or anyone – if he possibly could. It was just who he was. And she'd thought that Anakin understood that.

"He should have known his limitations," Anakin said, perhaps validly, if a little harsh.

"So what are you saying, Anakin, that I should have died?"

"You should have!"

His outburst seemed to startle both of them. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. His voice, when he spoke again, was calmer.

"I'm not saying that I wish you were dead," he added, although the look he sent her was largely indifferent. "But in the natural order…" A shrug. "You should be. He shouldn't have endangered himself."

"Maybe he didn't," Sabé countered, wondering how much she was trying to convince herself. "Maybe this is just part of recovering from the healing process when you're still learning."

Anakin scoffed, and she couldn't blame him for it. It sounded weak even to her own ears.

"You should go," he said, making sound less a suggestion and more of an order. "I'll sit with him a while."

"I just got here," Sabé protested. "I have every right to visit him too."

 _I'm his wife,_ she nearly added, holding back as she realised that Anakin wouldn't react well to that. Besides, she couldn't claim it for too much longer. With the law repealed and Daedrin dead, there was nothing to keep Obi-Wan at her side. Perhaps that was what was really frightening her. They were in their last days, perhaps hours, together, and he was unconscious. The Jedi Council could annul their marriage without him, although they'd need his signature eventually.

 _It shouldn't matter_ , she told herself firmly. Parting was inevitable. It had always been. She cherished the time they'd had, the greater closeness in their relationship. He'd never directly said so, but she knew Obi-Wan valued it too. There was nothing else that truly needed saying, aside from the obvious…the impossible. She should simply detach, the way a Jedi would.

"Hasn't he given enough for you?" Anakin snapped suddenly, arms folded in his voluminous sleeves as he paced back and forth on the opposite side of Obi-Wan's bed.

Sabé blinked at him. "What…?"

"All of this time he could have been out on the frontlines saving lives, instead he's been parading around as your _bodyguard_." He almost sneered the word, and she recalled his opinion of the average security officer. Gregar had relayed that to her a few years ago, when Obi-Wan and Anakin had been called to protect Padmé, throwing them all together again.

 _Protection is a job for local security, not Jedi._

"The Council doesn't…" she began.

"It's insulting!" Anakin cut across her. "He's a Jedi Master! And because he was so busy watching over you, he wasn't able to save the woman he truly loves."

Sabé felt her jaw drop in bewilderment, and she wondered what version of events Anakin had heard. Underneath his words, she detected his fear that something similar might happen to Padmé. She could empathise with worrying about a loved one's safety, but couldn't help feeling a stab of anger at the way he made assumptions and used Obi-Wan as a cover story.

"Look," she said heatedly, "I'm sorry for what happened to Satine, I really am, but it wasn't my fault. Nor was it Obi-Wan's. Are you saying that either one of us was capable of influencing Darth Maul's actions?"

"Of course not," he said with a deeply sceptical sneer.

Sabé studied him, the seemingly-constant anger that hung around him like fog, held back just barely by his emotional control. She wasn't entirely surprised by his outburst. It felt like it had been building for some time, since he first heard about the marriage. He'd never approved, comparing the arrangement between herself and Obi-Wan to his marriage with Padmé. In Sabé's mind they didn't compare at all, but she knew Anakin considered it grossly unfair that his marriage was a secret and theirs was out in the open. The fact that it was practically a business arrangement did not seem to sway his opinion.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to state something negative about her monopolisation of Obi-Wan's time, but a quiet voice prevented him from speaking.

"Stop, Anakin."

As one, Sabé and Anakin turned in the direction of the medical bed. Obi-Wan lay unmoving, but his eyes were open, fixing on his former apprentice with faint disapproval.

"I'm fine," he added.

Sabé grabbed his hand, then just as quickly let go of it as she remembered what was and wasn't appropriate.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Tired," he admitted, "but all right. How are you? Your wound…"

"I'm fine," she assured him, managing a smile. "You saved my life. I'm in your debt."

"I clear you of it," Obi-Wan said flippantly. He held out an arm, and Anakin stepped forward to help him sit up.

"You sure you should be doing that?" he asked, eyeing Obi-Wan with a critical gaze.

"I promise you I'm fine, Anakin," Obi-Wan retorted. It wasn't quite a snap, but he certainly seemed tense, and Sabé wondered how much of their conversation he had heard. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days," she answered him, watching him scoot to the edge of the medical bed and stretch his neck and shoulders.

To Anakin, he said, "Did you inform the Council about Dooku?"

"Yes. They said to return with a full report as soon as you're well enough."

Obi-Wan nodded, shifting his gaze back to Sabé. "Does the Order need our help setting things to rights here?"

"Not really," Sabé told him. "Although the clone troopers have been helping anyway. We can leave whenever you're ready."

Her voice was calm, but she felt her stomach flip. From the rather perceptive look in his eyes, he too knew what awaited them back on Coruscant.

"Anakin, would you please inform Rex that we will set off in two hours. That should be enough time to organise everything."

To Sabé's surprise, Anakin nodded and left without a word, although he sent her a glance that she didn't much like.

"How much did you hear?" she asked, giving in to the discomfort of her bacta dressing and joining him where he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I heard you asking me to wake up," he replied. "It took me a while to persuade my body to respond, however."

Sabé lifted a brow in surprise. "So…the entire conversation with Anakin, then?"

"Essentially." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and she reflected on how very…human he seemed. "I didn't know that he harboured so much anger."

Even while struggling to wake up, it seemed he'd detected that Anakin's hostility towards Sabé was only the tip of the iceberg. There had been so much more that he hadn't unleashed. Sabé realised with a cold, unsettling feeling that if he _had_ let the full force of his rage emerge, she might not have survived it. She wasn't sure where such a theatrical thought had come from, but it seemed strangely accurate.

"I knew he's always struggled to temper his anger," Obi-Wan went on, "but he's seemed largely in control up until now. I don't know what's changed."

"Nor me. I don't like it, though," she confessed, thinking of Padmé.

"No," he agreed, looking so troubled that she wished he'd remained unconscious for just a few minutes longer. "I'll speak to him when we get back. There might be some way I can help."

"About when we get back," Sabé began, resisting the urge to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve, "I'm assuming the Council will want to see us."

He held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "I imagine so."

She nodded too, feeling her throat constrict.

 _Gods, Sabé, keep it together._

She wanted to add a comment about how it was for the best, he could get back to proper Jedi business now, etcetera, etcetera, but the words stuck.

Obi-Wan's expression softened as he looked at her with a touch of something she couldn't – or wouldn't – put a name to.

"Sabé…" he said gently.

Then Commander Cody pushed the flap of the tent aside, holding a holo projector.

"Master Windu for you, General Kenobi," he announced.

Sabé sighed, forcing a smile and getting to her feet. "I'll leave you to it," she said before following Cody out.

Not wanting to dwell on whatever Mace Windu might have to say, she went to find Padmé to ensure that they would be ready to leave with the troops. When she approached the senator's room, however, the low rise and fall of voices told her that Anakin had beaten her to it. Keen to avoid another confrontation, she turned and sought out Gregar instead.

Getting ready to depart turned out to be strangely ordinary.

* * *

Mace Windu's message to Obi-Wan had been entirely as expected, requesting a meeting to discuss the annulment once Sabé's wound had been checked over by a Coruscanti medic. Since they arrived back on Coruscant quite late, the medical appointment and the meeting were pushed back to the following day. Watching her friend's face on the journey back, Padmé had to conclude that Sabé was rather glad for the delay. She looked as if she had a lot on her mind.

Padmé could sympathise. She was on edge, determined to have her conversation with Anakin as soon as they arrived. She'd relayed the information to Gregar, to let him know why she was going to invite Anakin to the apartment. As Sabé and Obi-Wan departed the landing platform together, heading back to their own place, they didn't have to worry about pretence. Anakin simply travelled to the Senate Apartment Complex with herself and Gregar. It was a painfully awkward journey, despite the fact that Anakin didn't realise just _how_ awkward it was.

Padmé went through the motions once she got home, letting Moteé and Ellé fuss over her and ask their questions about the battle while Anakin sat silently in the veranda lounge. She was exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was go through the talk that was ahead of her, but she knew she had to. It was long overdue.

Eventually she persuaded her handmaidens to go to bed, which they did without protest knowing that Anakin was there. Gregar completed his usual security sweep and retreated too, although not without a meaningful glance that reminded her he would not be far away. Left alone, Padmé took a moment for herself, to breathe, to centre herself and repeat that she was doing the right thing. It was difficult. She was afraid, and she wasn't entirely sure why. Flickers of her nightmares danced behind her eyelids and she shoved them aside. She couldn't let herself get distracted now.

 _It's just Anakin,_ she told herself. _That little boy I met on Tatooine all those years ago. He won't hurt me._

He sent her a small smile when she entered the lounge, and she struggled to return it, suddenly feeling with absolute certainty that the conversation was going to break both of their hearts.

"Can we talk?" she said, and his smile dropped immediately.

"What about?"

"About…us," Padmé managed to get out.

Anakin's face swept through a rapid whirlwind of emotions. In the first instant he looked like a frightened child, but that quickly turned to suspicion and anger before settling into a rather cold, arrogant expression that seemed to suggest that he already knew what she was going to say.

Padmé's heart gave a jolt of alarm. _He can't…he can't know._

"What about us?" he asked in a deceptively level tone.

Padmé grabbed her courage with both hands and leapt into the abyss. "I think it would be best if we went our separate ways."

* * *

 **A/N:** Drama ahead.

So Jedi healing had a lot written about it in the old EU, and I'm drawing a lot of my portrayal of it from that. Canon hasn't really gone into it much, except that we briefly see Obi-Wan use it to revive Luke after the Tusken fight in ANH.

Also I have now finished draft one of this story! It is more or less complete, barring what will probably end up being a lot of editing. So yay!


	28. Downward Spiral

**A/N:** Okay, so...things are taking a darker turn. Be warned. Especially you, Anakin fans. Let's not forget that Vader is a ruthless badass, okay? That had to have come from somewhere.

I almost didn't post this today. I've had a few anxiety attacks regarding upcoming job interviews etc, but I figured I would try and get it out there. Life doesn't stop just because my brain thinks there's danger around every corner.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight –Downward Spiral.**

At first he seemed confused. Padmé watched him cycle through his emotions as he processed her words, pulling a face that seemed to indicate that he was perplexed, possibly even faintly disgusted by them. It lasted less than a second, then the sense of confusion, the sense of being at a loss seemed to disintegrate. His expression snapped to one of aggravation as he stood up and barked a single word response. "What?"

Taken aback, Padmé resisted the instinct to bite back, as she might do in a professional debate when faced with the same tone that he had just used.

"This marriage isn't working, Anakin," she told him, endeavouring to keep her voice low and gentle. "We should never have entered into it. We come from different worlds."

She was not speaking simply geographically. He would understand that within her words, even if he chose not to acknowledge it.

"No," he said.

Padmé inhaled sharply at the flat statement, feeling the weight of it as if he'd reached out and physically stopped her from moving. Swallowing to alleviate her dry throat, she said, "No?"

"No," he repeated, shaking his head. "Different worlds? What does that even mean? This is…this is stupid, Padmé. Don't talk like that. It's not funny."

She stared at him, searching for tact. "No," she agreed, "it's not funny. It's not meant to be funny."

"Then don't say it," he snapped moodily.

"This isn't a game, Anakin, I'm being serious. You need to listen to me."

He was afraid, she could see it. She felt a flash of guilt, fully aware how much he'd been afraid of losing her, and that in his mind, she was making that true. Behind his irritation he seemed surprised by her announcement, in the early stages of shock where he hadn't processed it enough to really react. The calm before the storm. And knowing Anakin, a storm was most definitely coming. The best Padmé could do was try and temper it – temper _him_ – before it hit.

And yet…worryingly, there was a hint of something in his eyes that made her think that part of him had been expecting this. Dreading it, perhaps never truly thinking it would ever happen, but the concept of separation wasn't entirely new to him. Vaguely, she wondered if he'd had dreams too, and whether it might make the conversation easier if he had.

"This talk is overdue," she started to say.

"Stop," Anakin interrupted her. "Just stop it, Padmé. I don't want to hear it."

A spark of annoyance lanced through her, and again she fought to keep her tone calm. A small, mean part of her felt a little like she was trying to soothe a spooked animal, and she wondered if it was really her responsibility to be cautious of his feelings.

"I'm sorry," she said, gently but firmly, "but you have to. I don't want to hurt you, Anakin, but I mean what I'm saying."

"Because we're from such different worlds?" he threw back at her, making an angry, quick gesture that sent the sleeves of his dark robe flapping.

"That's not the only reason," she spoke up, trying to keep her voice level as she decided what to say. Mentioning Gregar was absolutely out of the question, but without him…her story had holes. Anakin was smart enough to see that. "It's not that I don't care for you," she went on. "I always will. But…"

Anakin snorted, and she lost the flow of her sentence. "This is ludicrous. Care? You _care_ for me? I'm your husband!"

Picking up her thread again, Padmé forged onward as if he hadn't spoken. "Even you must admit, we've spent so much time arguing lately. You know we have! You've barely been here, which isn't your fault," she added hastily, seeing him puff up indignantly, "but you've barely been here, and when you are, we fight. I haven't been happy. I…I haven't been happy, Anakin," she said again, shrugging helplessly. "Can you honestly claim that _you_ have?"

At her words, the attitude seemed to drain out of him, and his shoulders slumped. "I'll do better," he insisted, looking at her with earnest blue eyes. "I will, I promise you. Don't…this doesn't have to be the end."

"I just feel…"

"No," he cut her off. "No, Padmé, please…"

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I…I can't take the secrecy, Anakin. The lies. Do you remember our conversation by the fire at Varykino? Do you remember what you said?"

Memory compelled him to answer. "I said it would destroy us," he recited dolefully.

"We were smarter back then. We should have listened to our own arguments, not given in to…"

"To what?" he asked sharply, the anger starting to creep back in. "To love?" he went on. "That's what it was. That's what it was, Padmé…wasn't it?"

She stared at him, unsure if she was hearing rage or desperation. Perhaps both. His face was transparent, showing her that the concept of her not loving him hadn't occurred to him until that point. It was painful to see, on top of the guilt she already carried.

"I need you," he said entreatingly. "I can't… I can't deal with the shadows without you."

Shaking her head firmly, she took a step forward and gripped his arm. "Anakin, you _can_. You don't need me. You don't need anyone, you're strong. You're a good person. It's not healthy to need someone like that."

He shook his head, looking down at the floor. "Why?" he asked her simply, remaining in melancholy rather than jumping back into anger.

Her chest constricted with a flare of pain, or was it apprehension? "I…I have to. It's for the best."

"It can't…"

"It's what's best for me," she added, talking over him before she lost her courage. "And I have to think of myself, Anakin. You of all people should know how bad I am at that, but I can do it when I need to."

He lifted his gaze to hers once more, sending a ripple of concern through her. She could see his hurt giving way, the fury taking over again, as plainly as if someone had written it across his face.

"And what about what's best for me?"

"You can't be happy with how things have been lately," she threw back at him, raising the point again. "And where could this possibly go? We can't have a life together. I don't know what we were thinking."

"We have each other!" Anakin burst out. "Isn't that enough?"

"No," Padmé replied, a sad, gloomy single syllable. "I wish it was, but this isn't a fantasy story. Life doesn't work that way in the real world. Over the past year or so I've come to realise and accept that."

Anakin shook his head in disbelief. "No. No, you can't be serious. You're just tired, you need a vacation."

"I'm fine," she insisted, although vaguely she felt that he was probably right about the vacation. "I'm sorry. I'm…so sorry. I should never have agreed to…I shouldn't have let us get to this stage. I should have stopped it earlier."

Anakin was holding himself rigidly still, and she could see his jaw muscle twitching under the strain.

"So what," he ground out, tone bitter and sarcastic, "you're saying you regret our whole relationship?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I think we made a mistake, but that doesn't mean I regret it." Deep down, she wondered if that was really true, and felt terrible for even thinking it. "It was a dream," she said, a little wistful. "A nice story."

Anakin fell silent for a beat, glancing at a point beyond her shoulder. His eyes glittered, although she didn't think he was tearful. Not yet, anyway.

"Do you love me?" he asked finally, purposely avoiding her gaze. The question was laced with accusation, and that only increased with the one he asked next. "Did you ever?"

And Padmé Amidala, skilled diplomat, hesitated to give the answer that would keep the peace, and instead found herself debating the truth of it. She didn't want to lie to him, but neither did she want to be harsh. It was such a complex question, and he demanded a simple answer.

"I…" she said, faltering.

His eyes snapped to hers, wide with disbelief and horror. "Padmé?" he prompted her, a touch of that lost little boy creeping back into his voice.

"I care…" she began, only to be swiftly cut off.

"Don't say that!" His face hardened, and she resisted the urge to take a step back. "Don't say something so…so _weak_ and shallow!"

"I'm sorry," Padmé said, unable to think of anything else that would be remotely suitable. "You won't lose me," she added, trying for reassurance. "We'll always have a bond of friendship that…"

"Friendship?" Anakin repeated, sounding incredulous, incensed. "Are you _seriously_ using that word? Do you have any idea how insulting that is? I've loved you for over ten years, and you want to reduce all that to _friendship_?"

"I can't change the way I feel!" Padmé burst out, livid at his sense of entitlement.

"So you lied when you said you loved me?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that…" She sighed heavily, frustrated with the whole exchange. Her cynical side wondered what she'd expected. After all, Anakin had never been known for his rational thinking.

Something with heavy implications seemed to dawn on him at that moment, and she saw his face change under the weight of it. All at once his expression turned to one of utter devastation. It lasted for less than a second before righteous anger took its place.

"Who is he?" he asked coldly.

Padmé stared at him, horrified. "Who is who?"

"Tell me who he is!" he insisted. "I _know_ there's someone!"

She gasped at the familiarity of the exchange, digging her fingernails into her palms. It was her nightmare all over again, coming true word for word. And she remembered how it had ended.

" _No one!"_

" _Don't lie to me!"_

" _Anakin…you're…hurting…"_

" _You betrayed me._ No one _betrays me."_

She had to find some way to defuse him before he used the Force against her.

"Listen to me, Anakin," she said calmly. "I have _never_ been disloyal to you."

Guiltily she recalled how close she'd come, but her sense of duty and the need to do what was right had kept her from acting on it. Yes, she'd had a moment of closeness with Gregar, but nothing more. She was trying to do things the right way.

"That doesn't answer my question," he pointed out with caustic perception.

 _Demanding a response is not asking a question_ , Padmé snapped inwardly, not daring to voice her opinion aloud because truthfully she _was_ sidestepping.

His ongoing stare was stony, penetrating down to her very soul. Feeling unnerved and exposed, she stepped away, moving towards the little fountain in the centre of the room. She gripped the rim of its bowl with both hands, steadying herself. Unlike her unfailing confidence when addressing the Senate, this left her uncertain, completely unsure as to how well the discussion was going. It wasn't going well, she knew that much, but then it was never going to. And then he asked the question that rendered the whole thing unsalvageable.

"Who's Gregar?"

Padmé tightened her grip on the fountain, feeling as if the air had suddenly been swept out of her lungs. Forcing small, shallow breaths, she held herself up, swallowing hard as she realised she was potentially seconds away from fainting. She'd never been a woman prone to fainting, and it was the oddness of it, strangely enough, that sharpened her senses and allowed her to stand tall.

 _He can't know that name. I've never used it when he's been around._

"What?" she said, turning back to him, keeping one hand on the fountain for support. She deflected, somehow knowing she should, knowing it was absolutely necessary that he never find out just how close by Gregar was. The certainty of her instinct scared her more than anything Anakin had yet done.

"You heard me, Padmé, who is he?"

"I…I don't know."

"Lies!" he roared, the abruptness of it making her jump. In the dim light of Coruscant's night sky, his eyes shone a feral yellow.

Padmé inhaled shakily, trying to keep calm. _It's just a trick of the light._ But the hue didn't fade like it had before. It was constant, as it had been in the nightmare.

"Everything I've done – _everything_ – has been for you," Anakin snarled. "To keep you safe, to keep from losing you. I've been fighting to end this war that you hate so much. And you repay me by…"

"Don't finish that sentence," Padmé retorted, finding the bite of her own anger, "so help me, Anakin. I told you, I haven't betrayed you."

"You're lying," he insisted, stepping closer and examining her with narrowed eyes. "You're lying about _something_."

She wavered, finding no argument she could make. He was right.

The yellow faded from his eyes and he just looked defeated. In a softer tone he added, "Tell me…just tell me there's no one else and I'll believe you."

Dismayed, Padmé finally felt the sting of tears. She blinked, feeling them trace a path down her cheeks.

"Tell me, Padmé." Anakin implored her like a desperate man. "Please."

"It's over, Anakin," she said gently, disguising her unease behind her soft tone. "Please stop interrogating me."

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment she thought the discussion was finally done. He'd be gone, and would hopefully find peace without using her as a crutch. Then he stood taller, his face hard and closed off, and her apprehension returned tenfold.

"That's not an answer," he said, words coloured with a cold, monotone quality that she remembered from her dream. "Tell me the truth."

"Anakin, you're scaring me, would you please just go?"

"Not until you tell me who he is!"

He flung out a hand, gripping at fresh air, and Padmé felt a tightness around her throat. She managed to gasp, sucking in a quick breath before the pressure increased and she was lifted off her feet.

"No!" she mouthed, kicking aimlessly, her hands scrabbling at her neck in a futile attempt to loosen his unseen grip.

"Drop her, Skywalker, or I'll drop you!"

Anakin turned almost lazily, and through the haze of her darkening vision, Padmé saw Moteé and Ellé standing behind him, their blasters drawn.

"Don't interfere in things that don't concern you," Anakin growled.

"Drop her now, I won't tell you again!" Moteé yelled fiercely. When he didn't react, she fired a warning shot that sizzled past his sleeve, singeing the fabric.

Anakin lowered his arm, and Padmé slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. Moteé looked relieved that she wouldn't have to kill her employer's husband, but her stance was still defensive. Neither she nor Ellé lowered their weapons. Just as Padmé was beginning to hope that he was back to his senses, Anakin raised his hands again, clenching both into a fist. There came the sickening snap of two necks, and her loyal handmaidens fell heavily to the marble floor.

Padmé didn't have breath enough to scream, but she felt her mouth open in an imitation of it, her tears running unchecked down her face. Anakin turned back to her, and she gazed up at him in wide-eyed fear. She would be next, she was certain of it. At least Gregar would be safe.

Just as he raised a hand to her – for what purpose, she was unsure – the beeping of his comlink halted him in his tracks. Seeming almost confused about the origin of the annoying noise, he tugged the device from his belt and activated it.

"I must speak with you at once," came Chancellor Palpatine's voice, completely at ease with bypassing any sort of greeting. "Come to my office immediately, if you will."

Anakin blinked a couple of times, and the yellow in his eyes dimmed a touch. "I'm on my way," he said shortly, flipping the switch and replacing the comlink.

Padmé stared at him as he looked down at her, his face largely impassive for someone who had just callously murdered two people.

"This isn't over," he said coldly, turning and sweeping from the room.

Padmé remained where she was, trying to breathe, trying to control her violently shaking limbs. Struggling against it, she fished out her own comlink, whimpering when she dropped it. It rolled away, and she lunged for it, thumbing the switch, grateful for her foresight in making sure it would connect to one frequency in particular.

To her relief he answered right away. "Typho."

She couldn't speak, letting out a strangled sob instead.

"I'm coming," he said, sounding as if he was already moving. "Stay where you are, Padmé, I'm coming."

She took him at his word, unable to move from her slumped position by the fountain, her body almost doubled over as she wept for Moteé and Ellé and tried to get her shock under control.

Before long the lights were brightening the room with their warm glow, and footsteps announced the arrival of Gregar, Threepio teetering some distance behind him. He swore when he saw the handmaidens' bodies, but hurried past them to kneel at Padmé's side.

"Hey, hey, I've got you," he assured her, lightly gripping her shoulders.

Padmé let herself lean against him, needing to borrow his strength. The encounter with Anakin had drained her of energy.

Gregar glanced back over his shoulder, watching Threepio, who had paused by Moteé's prone form.

"Oh my," the droid was saying mournfully. "This is just awful. What are we going to do?"

"We can't leave them," Padmé spoke up, finding her voice again, sore and raspy though it was.

Gregar looked back at her with open sympathy. "We have to. We have to get you away from here right now, before he comes back. I'm calling Sabé and Obi-Wan."

Padmé reluctantly nodded, knowing he was right, but the decision left a sour taste in her mouth. Moteé and Ellé had given their lives for her, and she couldn't even ensure that they received a fitting burial.

Gregar was already activating his comlink, and presently Sabé's tired, slightly grumpy tone emitted from it.

"Sabé here."

"It's me," Gregar answered her.

"It's late," she declared. "What's the matter?"

"Too much to explain right now, but I need to get Padmé somewhere safe. Somewhere where Anakin can't find her."

Sabé instantly sounded more alert, and didn't waste time asking questions. "Bring her here."

Padmé felt humbled at her friend's lack of hesitation in giving up the address that had remained securely secret for so long. It took her a moment to remember that the threat against Sabé was gone. She'd been so caught up in her own drama.

In mere seconds everything was arranged between Sabé and Gregar, and Padmé wiped her tears on her sleeve, suddenly grateful that she still wore the practical outfit she'd chosen for the battle on Naboo. It was a stupid, unimportant thought, and she mentally kicked herself for focusing on such things.

"Can you stand?" Gregar asked her, and she nodded. "Did he hurt you?"

"I…no. Not really."

He frowned at her hesitation. "Not really?"

He got to one knee, still holding her upper arms, and together they got to their feet. Padmé wobbled, still shaken up, keeping a reassuring hold on his forearms.

"He didn't hurt me," she reiterated, "but he would have. If the chancellor hadn't called for him. Moteé and Ellé…they stopped him. Distracted him. And he…" She trailed off.

Gregar cupped her face in his hands, the warmth of his palms soothing and grounding her. "They did their duty," he said firmly and not without sensitivity, as he'd said of Cordé and Versé so long ago. "Now let me do mine. We have to go."

Padmé nodded. "I know."

The authorities would find Moteé and Ellé, and they would ensure that the proper Nabooian rites were carried out. She had to let herself believe that.

She picked up Ellé's fallen blaster, slipping it into the empty holster at her side, and said a quick final farewell to her two dedicated bodyguards. Then she and Gregar were jogging out of the apartment, Threepio stretching the limits of his metal limbs to keep up with them.

* * *

Up and dressed after a mere hour and a half of sleep, Sabé paced the floor of the lounge, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Padmé and Gregar. Obi-Wan stood nearby, motionless and calm, although she knew he was just as apprehensive as she was. She knew it because he was standing instead of sitting.

"You're going to wear yourself out," he commented quietly.

She nodded in acceptance. "Probably."

When she was on duty she could be as patient as the day was long, but not when she knew something had gone horribly wrong for her friends.

The door chimes had her spinning an abrupt one-eighty, and she hurried to the panel, relieved to see the party of three when the door slid aside. She ushered them in, noting Padmé's red-rimmed eyes and Gregar's grim expression. Padmé looked to be on the verge of passing out, and Sabé manoeuvred her into a comfortable chair, sending Threepio for a glass of water. The droid grumbled about finding his way around a strange kitchen, but obediently tottered over.

Gregar perched on the sofa, close to Padmé, and Sabé sat next to him, gingerly mindful of her healing wound. Obi-Wan crouched on the other side of Padmé's chair, checking her over for injuries despite her assurances that she was fine. In a sorrowful, shaken voice Padmé relayed the evening's events to them in full.

Shocked by Anakin's actions, particularly in killing Moteé and Ellé, Sabé looked to Obi-Wan, her heart breaking as she tried to imagine what he must be feeling. Anakin was his friend, his former student. What he'd done was difficult to listen to enough without that extra emotional involvement.

Obi-Wan's face was drawn and deeply weary. A shadow of dread settled over him, and she knew he was considering the possibility that Anakin would need to be taken down if he didn't step off the dark path. He barely reacted to the news that Anakin and Padmé were married, cementing her assumption that he'd always known far more than he let on.

"If I came with you when you speak to him again, do you think he'd agree to the divorce?" Obi-Wan asked the distressed senator.

Padmé shook her head sadly. "No. He'd just drop the idea of Gregar and think it was you instead."

"What if we all went?" Sabé suggested.

"I don't think he'd ever agree. And…I just don't think it's a good idea to try." She shrugged, shaking her head. "I…I don't know if I'd be safe, even with all of you there."

"I think I would have to agree," Obi-Wan said. His words were calm, but his eyes seemed dimmer, and Sabé knew it cost him a lot to side against Anakin. "We must keep you safe from him. Is there somewhere you can go?"

Padmé frowned at him. "I…well, yes. But I can't go into hiding forever, Obi-Wan. I'm a senator. I have a duty."

"It wouldn't be forever. Just some time away so that I can talk Anakin round."

But Padmé's suddenly-distant expression indicated that she wasn't really listening. Sabé watched her furrow her brow, then look over and meet her gaze. The glance told her immediately that her friend was distracted by something weighing heavily on her mind. Sabé also knew exactly what that something was.

"Anakin's with the chancellor," Padmé said, almost as if to herself.

"And that worries you?" Obi-Wan asked her astutely.

Padmé nodded but did not elaborate. Sabé cleared her throat and spoke up. "You know there are some parts of my job that I've had to keep confidential," she said, "even from you." At Obi-Wan's nod, she continued. "Well Padmé's had several meetings with Senator Organa and others…about the direction the Republic has taken since Chancellor Palpatine accepted his emergency powers. There was a lot of distrust for the chancellor among the group, and I think the general feeling was that they would have to forcibly ask him to step down once the war was over. There was some apprehension over how he'd react to the move."

"Bail seems to think that…" Padmé began, trailing off. "To be truthful, I'm not sure _what_ he thinks exactly, but he has no love for the chancellor. He's never said so, but I believe he suspects him to be more heavily involved in the war than we know."

Obi-Wan looked troubled by their words. "That's possible," he said. "The Jedi have been rather side-tracked by the war in recent years. I know the Council is concerned that it's affecting our connection to the Force. If the chancellor was up to something, he could very well get away with it without the Jedi noticing."

"What exactly does Senator Organa think the chancellor is doing?" Gregar asked.

"I don't know. I don't think Bail even knows," said Padmé with a shrug. "It's just…a feeling, I guess. A fear and suspicion."

"But you think it might link to Anakin?" Obi-Wan pressed her.

"Again, I don't know. But…the way he spoke to Anakin over the com…it was so…cold. So business-like. I thought Chancellor Palpatine was Anakin's mentor, but he almost sounded like he was giving orders."

"Anakin has relied on Palpatine's friendship and guidance for years," Obi-Wan said. "More so than I thought he should, to be honest, but I didn't want to rob him of a connection that he seemed to find helpful. Anakin has been dissatisfied with the Council for years now. I used to worry that the chancellor was cultivating that distrust, but I thought I was being overly cynical. Perhaps I was right to be concerned."

A heavy, thoughtful silence followed, broken when Padmé gave a small shudder.

"I don't know what to do to fix this," she admitted. "Anakin is a friend we've known for years," she said, looking between Sabé and Obi-Wan. "And yet…he seemed so far from that tonight, staring at me in such… _anger_ …and those yellow eyes."

Obi-Wan flinched, sharply looking up at her. "Yellow eyes?"

The hint of alarm in his voice sent a chill down Sabé's spine.

"Uh…" Padmé said, faltering a little as she heard it too. "Yes. Just for a moment, he had…"

Obi-Wan covered his mouth with his hand, eyes narrowed as he thought through the information.

"What is it?" Sabé asked him, unable to stand the suspense.

It took him a long moment to reply, and when he did his voice was heavy with dread. "Yellow eyes are…a Sith trait," he reported.

Sabé recalled Darth Maul's frightening amber gaze, trying and failing to picture Anakin with the same.

"But didn't you tell me the Jedi were hunting for a Sith Lord?" she spoke up, remembering far too late that Obi-Wan had told her that in confidence. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind her raising it in front of Padmé and Gregar.

"Yes, although it's possible Dooku was lying about Darth Sidious. Why?"

"Well, wouldn't yellow eyes have narrowed down the list of suspects?"

"For someone of Sidious's power – assuming that Dooku _wasn't_ lying – disguising himself would be easy. He could quite easily be under our nose…" Obi-Wan came to a halt, and his face turned ashen.

"What?" Sabé snapped at once, fearful at the sight of Obi-Wan expressing more uneasiness than she could ever recall seeing from him.

"I…I must go to the Temple at once," he said, getting to his feet. "I must speak with Master Windu."

Sabé stood too, wincing as her wound reminded her it was still healing. "Obi-Wan, _what is wrong_?"

He was already heading for the door and she trotted after him, catching his sleeve. Padmé and Gregar had turned in their seats to watch, twin expressions of confusion and concern on their faces.

Obi-Wan stopped at her gesture, pivoting to face her. She met his gaze, alarmed at the sheer depth of trepidation she could see in his eyes.

"Stay here," he told her earnestly. "Keep Padmé safe. If I'm not back in…two hours, take a ship and fly somewhere remote."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I'm not going to do any of that until you tell me what's going on. Obi-Wan…you're worrying me. Talk to me."

He sighed heavily, although she sensed he was not annoyed with her. "I…I think it may be possible that Palpatine is our Sith Lord."

Sabé's eyes widened at the idea. "What?"

"If I'm right, he's been manipulating Anakin for years. Now that Dooku is dead, he can take on a new apprentice. I…I know it seems a long shot, but think of how it might link together. Palpatine, Anakin, Senator Organa's suspicions that Palpatine is misusing his power…he could have been influencing both sides of the war to his own advantage. Do you see?"

She did see. She saw all too clearly. "Gods…" she breathed, almost sagging under the weight of the implications. "Controlling both sides to increase his power and keep it. Keeping the Jedi distracted by the war… Having the most powerful Jedi student in generations relying on his advice."

Obi-Wan nodded. "So I have to go. The Council needs to know of this."

Sabé nodded too. "Of course." Something else occurred to her and she snapped her fingers. "That's what he meant!" At Obi-Wan's puzzled look, she elaborated. "Daedrin. When he was rambling he said something like 'There aren't any sides'. He must have known what Palpatine was doing, which means…"

"Palpatine orchestrated the Order of Sanctuary murders," Obi-Wan finished grimly.

"Sympathy vote," Padmé spoke up quietly.

"What?" Sabé said, turning to her.

"Since he made the announcement that someone was targeting his homeworld, people have been much more sympathetic towards him. A lot of the noisier critics shut up. No one has questioned his power in some time."

The full weight of the implications settled over them all at the same time, and they looked at each other in shock.

"If Palpatine controls the Separatists…" Padmé recited. "Nute Gunray is a Separatist leader, which means he's probably been under Palpatine's control for years. The blockade around Naboo…"

"Got him elected," Gregar said, voice tight with rage. "He had our planet invaded, got our people killed, just so he could become chancellor."

Silence fell as they all processed the terrible speculation that seemed likely to be truth.

"I have to go," Obi-Wan announced, face grimmer than ever.

"We'll be here," Sabé assured him. "And if not…you have my com frequency. Please…stay safe."

"I'll try."

"Don't try, do."

He almost managed a smile at that. "All right."

And then, lightning fast, a flash of pain crossed his face and he staggered. Sabé reached for him, forgetting her injury, and they both stumbled to the floor. Padmé and Gregar were with them in seconds, making sure they were both okay. Sabé was not concerned about herself, however, but the haunted look on Obi-Wan's face.

"Obi-Wan," Gregar was saying, clasping his shoulder. "What is it, buddy?"

"Something…" Obi-Wan managed to say, expression a mixture of pain and confusion as he tried to make sense of it. "Something terrible has happened. I feel it. The Jedi…their voices…" He face went slack with shock. "Silenced."

Sabé stared at him in disbelief, mindful of the others doing exactly the same.

"Silenced?" she repeated, her voice trembling. "You mean…?"

Obi-Wan glanced at her, and Sabé didn't think she'd ever seen him look so lost. "I…I think they're dead. All of them."

"How is that possible?" Padmé asked.

"I don't know."

Gregar got to his feet and jogged over to the window. "The Temple's burning," he reported, voice coloured by his shock. "There's smoke."

Obi-Wan shifted into a cross-legged sitting position, taking several deep breaths. "I must meditate for answers," he declared, closing his eyes and seeming to sink into a trance immediately.

Sabé let Padmé help her up, and they joined Gregar at the window. Sure enough, a thick column of smoke dominated the skyline in the direction of the Temple, illuminated by Coruscant's night lights until it leaked into the dark sky above their range. The apartment wasn't far from it, and they could see pedestrians lining the many raised walkways, watching or snapping pictures. On a few of the Temple's landing platforms, the stark white of the clone troopers' armour could be seen.

"What are the troops doing there?" Gregar wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Padmé answered him grimly. "But they're Palpatine's army. He can command them to go anywhere."

Stuck waiting for answers, the three of them fell silent, watching history unfold before their eyes. The future had never seemed so uncertain.

* * *

 **A/N:** Order 66 and Vader are finally here. Little bit different to the movies, but that's what fan fiction is for :)


	29. Planning for the End Times

**A/N:** We're into ROTS territory now, although not exactly the same as we're used to.

To Guest: Thank you for reviewing. No comment because spoilers!

To Mahogany Diva: All will be revealed in upcoming chapters. Thanks for commenting!

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine – Planning for the End Times.**

Lost in thought, Sabé was only superficially aware of the blur of hyperspace out of the viewport ahead of her, or Gregar's comforting presence at her side. They were piloting Padmé's Nubian cruiser. It was a worryingly distinctive ship, but had been the only one available to them in a hurry. Upon emerging from his meditative state, Obi-Wan had advised them to fly in the direction of Kashyyyk, and they had collectively agreed to do so, unsure of any other course of action. Sabé knew that Padmé and Gregar joined her in trusting Obi-Wan implicitly, and following up on whatever small lead he had at least took them away from Anakin.

Closing her eyes, she recalled the sight of the Jedi Temple's smoke, dominating the skyline as they flew away from Coruscant's surface. They had no confirmation of what had actually happened, and the HoloNet was being typically speculative. In less than five minutes, Sabé had read eleven different versions of what had caused the fire, ranging from an unhappy accident to a full-scale Jedi rebellion. Obi-Wan had been _so_ certain that something terrible had occurred, they had decided to leave before finding out the whole truth.

Beside her, Gregar sighed, and she turned to him. He was staring at nothing, much the same as she had been, turning his uniform hat over and over in his hands.

"You okay?" she asked him softly, careful not to startle him.

His eyelid flickered a few times before he straightened in his seat and returned her gaze. "Yeah. You?"

"Not sure," she confessed. "I don't like not knowing what's going on."

"I know what you mean. Obi-Wan knows what he's doing, though."

"I'm not sure that he does," Sabé mused thoughtfully. "He just…has strong instincts."

"Either way, I'll take that over whatever the HoloNet says."

"True."

They fell into companionable silence. In the part of the ship designed for passengers, Padmé had fallen into an exhausted sleep on a bench, worn out by a long day and the confrontation with Anakin. Sabé was pretty exhausted herself, but felt too wired to sleep. She'd left without a replacement bacta patch, and her healing injury was bothering her. Gregar didn't seem inclined to sleep either, although he hadn't mentioned how he was feeling.

Behind their seats, Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the cockpit floor, deep in another meditation trance. Sabé knew he was desperate for answers, and had received nothing from the Force but the vague lead they were currently following. Still, meditating seemed to be soothing for him, replenishing some of the energy that he would have gained in sleep. A dim-eyed See-Threepio stood in a corner, deactivated so they could all get some peace and quiet.

"Can I ask you something?" Sabé spoke up, keen to focus on something other than their uncertain future. "Personal."

Gregar nodded, shifting in his seat so he could see her better. Sometimes his peripheral vision was limited on one side.

"You don't have to answer," Sabé added as a disclaimer.

"Ominous," he said, almost managing a light tone. "Go ahead."

"I was just wondering…being nosy, I guess," she admitted with a shrug. "Padmé didn't get her divorce from Anakin, and if he's truly allied himself to a Sith, it looks likely that she never will."

"You want to know if that makes a difference to me?" he guessed.

"Yeah." She wrinkled her nose. "That _is_ nosy, isn't it? You don't have to answer."

"No, it's okay," he assured her, propping one foot up and resting his hat on his bent knee. "It depends on Padmé. If she feels in her heart…" He trailed off and started again. "She knows what I want. I know what _she_ wants. But if she still feels tied to Skywalker now, then…maybe she won't feel comfortable moving forward. I don't know. We didn't have time to talk about it. It's up to her. I won't push her if she still feels bound by her vows."

He said it so plainly, Sabé had to simply stare at him for a moment. "Gregar, you _can't_ be as calm as you sound. It's like…gods, it's almost like you have no emotional investment in this whatsoever."

He winced, shrugging one shoulder in acknowledgement. "Sorry, I guess it's an old defence mechanism. Trust me, Sabé, I'm so on edge about this I can't relax at all. Why do you think I'm not sleeping right now?"

"I assumed you wanted to spend time in my charming company," she quipped, drawing a small smile from him.

"Besides that, obviously," he said dryly, then sobered once more. "I just…I can't, in good conscience, offer her anything else. I don't know what I'll do if she says no now, on the verge of us finally being able to be together…but…I can't push her into choosing me if she still feels bound. Y'know?"

Sabé nodded. "I get it. You're too good, Gregar."

"I'm not the only one," he said, shooting her a knowing look.

Puzzled, she sent him a blank stare.

Her reaction prompted a quiet huff of laughter in him. "You seriously don't…? Okay," he said, amused and resigned. "You say I'm good, but who else do you know who's head over heels for someone tied to a serious commitment? Who else has decided not to push for what they want because that's what's best and most fair to the other person?"

Clarity dawned, and she gaped at him. "You mean…me? You mean me, don't you?"

"I mean you," he said fondly, seeming amused further by her incredulity. "I've drawn parallels between us before and you wouldn't listen, so my expectations are low this time. But really, Sabé. We're pretty similar."

She considered his point, grudgingly admitting that he saw valid patterns in their stories. "How did we end up like this?" she pondered aloud. "Valiantly doing the right thing and potentially ending up miserable?"

"I have no idea."

The console beeped, and there was a soft rush of movement as Obi-Wan got to his feet, seemingly wide awake. Sabé wondered how much he'd heard. Not that there were any secrets between them now, but still she wondered.

"We're within range," Obi-Wan said.

Gregar sat up straighter as the autopilot brought them smoothly out of hyperspace.

"In range of what?" he asked.

Before the words were even out of his mouth, a different alert noise started up. Sabé leaned forward to look at her side of the console.

"We're picking up a signal," she reported. "Some kind of escape pod."

"That's it," Obi-Wan said with certainty. "Can you get alongside it, Gregar?"

"No problem."

As the cruiser drew closer, Sabé saw a tiny pinprick drifting a short distance from Kashyyyk's orbit. Before too long they had flown near enough to recognise it as a basic escape pod. It disappeared from view beneath their hull, just as they were receiving a transmission. Sabé answered it, and a small hologram materialised above the console.

"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan greeted, sounding unsurprised. "I'm relieved to see you unhurt."

"And you as well, Obi-Wan," the wizened Jedi said. "That ship you're in…Senator Amidala's, it is, correct?"

"Yes, Master. The senator is here. There's a lot to discuss with you."

Sabé was itching to ask if Master Yoda knew any more than they did, but she remained quiet. It was for Obi-Wan to ask.

"We can't bring the pod on board," Gregar pointed out. "It's too big."

Obi-Wan acknowledged his words with a nod, looking pensive as he rested his elbows on the back of their chairs.

"Is it safe back down on the surface?" Sabé spoke up.

"No," Yoda answered at once. "Safe, it is not." He elaborated no more than that, and the following silence seemed heavy.

Sabé pulled up a star chart on her console, studying the immediate area. "What about Alaris Prime? It's not far, and it's habitable."

"Good idea," Obi-Wan said. "Master, is your pod capable of landing?"

"Yes. Not much of a pilot am I, but do that, I can."

"We'll meet you there."

Alaris Prime was the smallest moon orbiting the planet of Alaris. Since it was tiny and still within the Kashyyyk system, it seemed a relatively safe option for them all to talk. Like Kashyyyk, it was mostly forest terrain, and Gregar was able to set the ship down in a clearing while Sabé went to wake Padmé and explain what was going on.

Padmé had never been a heavy sleeper, but Sabé had trouble waking her. When her eyes were finally open, it seemed to take her a long moment to remember where she was.

"Are you okay?" Sabé asked her, pressing the back of her hand to Padmé's forehead. "Are you ill?"

"No," Padmé responded, blinking and haphazardly trying to smooth her hair. "I don't think so. I'm just exhausted."

Sabé eyed her warily, unconvinced, but changed the subject and offered to redo Padmé's elaborate bun, which had gotten thoroughly squashed from being slept on.

"I don't have anything with me," Padmé reminded her with a shrug. "Just braid it."

She explained the situation as she did so, and Padmé reacted with predictable relief that Master Yoda was alive. As the oldest and wisest Jedi, his loss would have been felt keenly.

Combing through the tangled waves of her friend's hair with her fingers while she talked, Sabé found herself grateful that Padmé hadn't worn it in the thick curls that she usually favoured. She managed to tame it into something somewhat presentable, and Padmé smiled her thanks as she stood up.

"It might be wise to take on a simpler look anyway," the senator mused, stretching her stiff limbs. "If I have to hide from Anakin like Obi-Wan seems to think I will."

"Master Yoda might have another plan," Sabé remarked as they headed for the door.

Obi-Wan and Gregar were already outside, having gone to find Yoda's pod. Sabé and Padmé waited for them by the ship's entry ramp, content to leave Threepio where he was, activated and guarding the cockpit. Sabé took a deep, appreciative inhale, enjoying the earthy scent of the forest. Amongst the towering wroshyr trees, they were safely concealed. The canopy of leaves that Gregar had gingerly negotiated would hide their ship from view should anyone come looking. But all Sabé could hear was the whisper of the wind in the trees and the cheerful chirps and calls from the moon's wildlife.

Before long, they heard the sound of approaching footsteps through the underbrush. Sabé dutifully raised her blaster, but was unsurprised when it turned out to be Obi-Wan, with a weary-looking Yoda clinging to his shoulders, and Gregar not far behind.

"I'm glad to see you safe, Master Yoda," Padmé greeted warmly. "We can talk in the ship, and you can rest."

"Thank you, Senator Amidala," Yoda replied, jumping down from Obi-Wan's back and following Padmé up the ramp.

Once they were all seated, and Padmé had apologised for the lack of refreshment – needlessly, in Sabé's opinion – Obi-Wan was the first to raise the most urgent topic.

"Master, what has happened? In the Force, I…I felt…"

"I felt it too, Obi-Wan," Yoda said, his gruff voice heavy with as much sorrow as a Jedi Master permitted himself. "Turned on me, my clone troopers did."

Sabé looked at him in shock, seeing similar expressions on the faces of her companions.

"Turned on you?" Obi-Wan repeated, seemingly unable to keep his surprise and alarm from his voice.

"Killed me, they would have, if the Force had not been my ally."

"This has happened everywhere," Obi-Wan realised, stating his sudden knowledge as grim fact. "All over the galaxy, the clones have all turned at the same time, and the Jedi…"

"Have fallen," Yoda finished. "Yes."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed and he looked at the floor. Sabé could read him well enough to know that he needed a brief moment to let the information sink in.

"When we left Coruscant the Temple was burning," Padmé spoke up. "There were clone troopers there too. The HoloNet has given us no definitive answers."

"Out of nowhere, this attack seems to have come," Yoda said with a frown. "And yet the Dark Side has shadowed matters for some time. Return to Coruscant, we must, if answers we seek."

Sabé and Gregar exchanged a worried glance, not liking the thought of bringing Padmé back into potential danger. They were both too well trained to speak up, however.

"We may have some additional information," Obi-Wan said, glancing back up. "Before we left, something else happened." He looked to Padmé, seeking permission, and she nodded, lips pressed firmly together. "Anakin is on the verge of turning to the Dark Side, if he hasn't turned already."

Yoda listened in unnervingly-still silence as Obi-Wan relayed what had happened between Anakin and Padmé, finishing off the story with their theories about Palpatine.

"If this is true," Yoda said after a moment's reflection, "then even more crucial, it is, to return. Confront Darth Sidious, we must. And his new apprentice, if he has one."

Sabé's heart clenched in sudden fear as she watched Obi-Wan accept the solemn duty with a nod. She didn't know how she could possibly stand by and let him march into battle with the most dangerous Sith lord in existence. In the same instance, she knew that in the end she would do exactly that. If there was one thing an Order of Sanctuary warrior understood, it was duty.

Obi-Wan sent her a glance, and she wondered if she was broadcasting her distress. She kept her face neutral, trying to reassure him with the most convincing smile she could muster. Her muscles felt too taut to achieve much in that department.

"Senator Amidala," Yoda went on, turning to Padmé, "safe, you must remain, until the threat is neutralised."

Padmé nodded her agreement, although she too looked uneasy. "We will accompany you back to Coruscant, change ships and head somewhere discreet."

They were all aware that it was a risk to bring a well-known senator back to a planet that could be now ruled by a Sith Chancellor, not to mention the threat of Anakin, but they had no choice. Unless Obi-Wan and Yoda stranded them on Alaris Prime, there was no other course of action they could take.

The door slid aside, allowing See-Threepio to enter. "Oh, excuse me, Senator Amidala, but there has been a transmission received from Senator Organa. He requests you to respond as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Threepio, I'll be right there," Padmé said dismissively. As soon as the droid had left, she looked to the others.

"Could be a trap," Gregar obligingly pointed out.

Padmé pulled a face. "It could. I trust Bail, but if he's being manipulated…"

"There's no harm in listening to it," said Sabé. "You don't have to reply."

"True."

They all relocated to the cockpit, watching as Bail Organa's blue-tinted figure sprang to life above the console.

"I hope you're safe, Padmé," the message began without ceremony. "There are reports that you've gone missing. The Senate office is pleading for your safe return. They've been trying to contact you, you just missed an emergency session. Since I'm pretty sure you have good reasons for staying away, I'll sum it up for you. Palpatine has been attacked, you wouldn't recognise him anymore. He's blaming the Jedi, claims there was some sort of rebellion and that they became a threat that the army had to eliminate. He's 'reorganised'," Bail's fingers came up to form the sarcastic quote marks, "the Republic into an Empire, and he's calling himself Emperor. His powers are secure, permanent now, like we feared. If it's safe for you to contact me, please do so. We have a lot to talk about, and we need to decide how to act. You can reach me on this secure channel."

The message fizzled out as abruptly as it had started.

"I haven't received any messages from the Senate," Padmé said, confusion clear in her voice and expression.

"Uh, that was me," Sabé admitted a touch sheepishly. "I had a feeling they might try, and since we weren't sure about Palpatine I set them up to redirect to the automatic response message."

Padmé smiled at her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Your foresight is fantastic, Sabé."

Sabé shrugged off the praise, but caught Obi-Wan's eye. Despite the weight that now rested on his shoulders, he found it in him to send her an approving smile.

Gregar broke the momentary lightness by saying, "If you're 'missing' it could be that they consider you a traitor now. The pleas for your safe return could be a ruse that Anakin has set up."

"I agree," Yoda spoke up from his position in the co-pilot's chair. "Speak with Senator Organa, you should. Perhaps…"

His words were cut off by another incoming transmission, a recorded audio-only message. A series of beeps and clicks filled the cockpit, leaving her baffled. Obi-Wan and Yoda, however, looked at each other knowingly.

"What _was_ that?" Sabé asked once the sound had faded out.

"A coded message," Obi-Wan explained. "It's recalling all Jedi to the Temple, stating that the war is over."

"But if there's anyone still alive out there who didn't get killed by their troops, they'll be walking back into danger," said Padmé, sounding horrified.

"If Master Yoda and I can get into the Temple, we can alter the message and warn them to stay away. I choose to believe that there are more Jedi alive than just us two," Obi-Wan said, but it seemed as if his belief was a strain for him. "If that's so, we can't risk them falling into this trap."

Yoda nodded. "A good plan, Obi-Wan."

"So you two will go to the Temple to do that and find out any additional information," Padmé summed up, business-like, "while we will stay out of sight and meet up with Bail to see what _we_ can find out. You can come and find us when you're done." The last sentence sounded more hopeful than sure.

"If we can," Obi-Wan assured her gently, although he was looking at Sabé as he said it.

"Likely, it is, that I will have to face this new Emperor," Yoda added gravely.

"Not alone, Master," Obi-Wan insisted.

"Alone," Yoda repeated, his tone calm. "Seek Anakin, you must, and determine where his loyalties lie."

The words hung sombrely over the group, the silence broken only by a quiet, "Oh dear," from Threepio.

* * *

Padmé occupied the co-pilot's seat on the flight back, which gave her an opportunity to talk to Gregar, but left Sabé at a loose end. She joined Yoda and Obi-Wan in the passenger lounge, but found herself frustrated. After a period of inward reflection, she realised she was frustrated with the lack of privacy. She wanted to talk to Obi-Wan, but not in front of Yoda. At the same time she realised that she had nothing to say that hadn't already been said, and what she _would_ like to discuss was strictly off-limits.

Throughout their time as husband and wife, she had set aside her conviction that she was the only one risking her heart and had grudgingly come to accept that Obi-Wan felt something for her. It was a truth she had pieced together from glances, actions, vague conversations where he had hinted as much as he was able without actually _saying_ anything. She would leave the marriage knowing that they had a unique and profound connection that they both valued, even if they were both determined to never act on it. And yet…

Annoyingly, part of her just wanted a normal life, where they could go somewhere to be happy together. She knew – had always known – that that simply wasn't an option, but she couldn't stop herself wishing for it. It was a stupid thing to do, to put herself through a thought-process that would only cause her pain.

On the opposite side of the room, Obi-Wan met her gaze and held it. Surprisingly, there was solidarity in the simple interaction. Although she knew he couldn't hear her thoughts, Sabé believed for a short moment that they were much the same. And so she did the only thing she could do, because she loved him: she looked away. He needed to concentrate, to prepare himself for the potential battle ahead of him. She couldn't be a distraction.

She leaned her head back against the bulkhead and feigned sleep. When she cracked open one eye a little while later, she saw with satisfaction that Obi-Wan had joined Yoda in meditating. Drifting into meditation of her own, she calmed herself, kept her emotions as controlled as possible. There were dark and difficult times ahead.


	30. Inferno

**A/N:** So I realised the one-year anniversary for this story passed without my noticing. Oops!

This chapter was so interesting to write. In case you can't guess from the title, it's Mustafar! I loved getting the chance to put a new spin on this epic fight.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty – Inferno.**

Obi-Wan did not feel much like a Jedi as he gazed around at Padmé's ruined apartment, his heart heavy in his chest and something like dread pooling in his stomach. Like the Jedi Temple before it, the apartment was a wreck, the tell-tale scorches that could only have been caused by a lightsaber evident everywhere he looked. Obi-Wan would have known, without any additional evidence, that Anakin was responsible for those lightsaber marks. Only _he_ would have come back to Padmé's apartment and torn it to shreds upon realising that she wasn't there.

The security holos at the Temple had confirmed Obi-Wan's fears. He'd seen Anakin slicing down his fellow Jedi with his own eyes, even as he hadn't wanted to believe it in his heart. Although the culprit had worn Anakin's face, a face that Obi-Wan had seen clearly, he was still finding it difficult to accept that it had been him. The unleashed fury that emanated from the figure had reached him even through the holo, leaving him deeply unnerved. One thing seemed abundantly clear, however: he had failed Anakin terribly.

He'd known that his former Padawan had feelings for Padmé. Rather than address it, he'd chosen to ignore it, hoping that Anakin would grow out of it, or realise that his admiration for her was just part of what made him who he was. He'd made the mistake of assuming that Anakin would do what _he'd_ done; learn from his experiences and move forward. Instead Anakin had become shrouded in secrecy, unable to speak out when he may have needed to. It had left him vulnerable to Palpatine's manipulative tactics.

With some surprise, Obi-Wan realised he was angry at the Jedi Order too. If they hadn't insisted on love being forbidden, everything would have been out in the open. Perhaps he was biased in more ways than one, but he couldn't help but think that openness could have prevented Anakin's turn. His annoyance was unhelpful, however, so he closed his eyes and let it rise up out of him, freeing himself from as many negative emotions as he could.

There was no sign of Moteé or Ellé's bodies, but Gregar's small security team had been slaughtered. The apartment furnishings were in pieces, ornaments smashed, and Padmé's bed, when he ventured to the upper level, had been almost entirely destroyed. The bedroom was the worst-hit. Anything personal belonging to Padmé had been thoroughly demolished. He glanced around, noting the tattered clothing, the glitter of smashed perfume bottles catching the light. His gaze hit the dressing table, and he saw his own fragmented reflection in her shattered mirror.

The bitter taste of Anakin's rage lingered residually in the Force, making Obi-Wan wince every time his consciousness brushed against it.

His comlink indicated an incoming holo transmission, and he reached for it, glad for the distraction. "Yes?"

"It's me," Sabé said, her tiny blue figure materialising. "Are you okay?"

"I'm at Padmé's apartment. Anakin has been here. Everything is destroyed, the security team is dead."

"Gods," Sabé exclaimed, shaking her head. Her expression was grim. "That's…gods. That's awful. I'll let Gregar know."

"Thank you."

She straightened up, visibly casting her shock to one side as her tone became more business-like. "I've been searching for clues like you asked. It's not much, but there are a few reports of General Grievous's ship being spotted in the Mustafar system. I thought maybe if…if Anakin _is_ working for Palpatine now, he might rendezvous with Grievous there. Since it seems likely that Palpatine was head of the Separatists too."

"It seems plausible. Thank you, Sabé, I'll follow it up."

"No problem. Bail is awaiting the call from Master Yoda. Once we have him on board the ship, we'll follow you at a safe distance." Her voice was very level, almost falsely so. She was putting a lot of effort into not worrying him. He almost smiled at the thought, touched.

"All right, but don't put yourself at risk," he told her, looking down at her tiny avatar, sheltered safely in the palm of his hand. If only he could keep her safe as easily in the real world.

"I'd say the same, but I don't think you'll listen," she replied a little solemnly. "Just…gods damn it all. Just be safe. As much as you can. Please."

"I'll try," he said, and she didn't correct him this time.

 _Do or do not, there is no try._

It was ingrained in him, but he didn't see any other option but 'try'. The future was too uncertain.

"I'll contact you when I can," he assured her.

There was a pause before she answered, and he knew she was ensuring her voice would stay steady. Her expression barely changed. "All right. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Sabé." He signed off, needing to focus on the path ahead of him. She was safe with Padmé and Gregar, all of them on board Bail Organa's ship, _Tantive IV._ With that comforting knowledge, he tucked her away to a safe corner of his mind, turning his thoughts towards Anakin once more.

* * *

Padmé stood with Gregar, awaiting Bail's return to the ship. He had insisted on venturing out himself, taking a speeder to rescue Yoda from the Senate after the Jedi Master called for help. His long-suffering captain, Antilles, had yielded with virtually no argument, telling Padmé that her politician friend flouted the rules almost as much as she did.

Upon receiving Yoda's distress signal, _Tantive IV_ broke orbit and returned to the surface, landing not too far from the Senate. Bail had set out less than twenty minutes previously, leaving the rest of them to wait.

Sabé had paced the floor until exhaustion caught up with her, and had grudgingly retreated to their guest quarters to sleep. Padmé knew she was deeply concerned about Obi-Wan, her worry constantly bubbling under the surface as she tried to maintain a calm demeanour. They were all worried, of course, but Sabé understandably more so. Padmé wished she could do something to help, and leaving Sabé to sleep seemed to be the best she could manage.

Padmé stifled a yawn. She was still tired herself, but there was so much to discuss and work out. Bail had elaborated on the things he'd reported in his message, but the conversation wasn't over. They had a lot of planning to do once Yoda and Obi-Wan returned safely.

 _If they…_

She cut the thought off immediately.

"You should sleep too," Gregar said quietly.

"I know, but I can't," she replied with simple honesty.

He put an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, grateful, as always, for his constant presence. In the wake of her confrontation with Anakin, Padmé had decided to look to the future. The technicality of their vows still bound her to Anakin, but in her heart they had separated as she'd intended. If he hadn't agreed to a divorce right away, she would have honoured her word to him until he was ready, but he'd forfeited that right when he'd murdered her handmaidens and tried to choke her. As far as she was concerned, the marriage was over, and she was tired of denying herself happiness.

With a pang, she realised that Sabé was unlikely to be granted the same luxury. Even if Obi-Wan survived facing Anakin, (and she didn't want to think about what it would mean if he did), he was still a Jedi. The Order was all but gone, but never dead while Obi-Wan and Yoda survived, not to mention whoever else might be in hiding. Yoda would no doubt have some plan in place to ensure the Order's future.

 _Perhaps the future of the Jedi lies in having a new generation to train,_ she inwardly speculated. _A child of Obi-Wan's would be a powerful apprentice._

Maybe there _was_ hope for her dear friends after all.

"What are you thinking?" Gregar asked her, the words slightly muffled where his lips rested against her hair.

"Matchmaker stuff," Padmé told him.

He let out a quiet, surprised laugh. "Not what I was expecting. And no need to ask who."

"I was just thinking that…maybe there's a chance for them now. Something good to come from all this…horror and death."

He hugged her tighter, and she rested her palm on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her fingers.

"I hope so," he said.

Bail and Yoda found them like that when they returned to the ship. Yoda was deep in thought, but Bail raised a surprised eyebrow before settling into a diplomatic expression.

"The Emperor is still alive," he reported, shattering the small sense of peace that Padmé had found. "We need to leave now."

Gregar broke away from her at once, setting off at a jog. "I'll inform Captain Antilles," he called as he went.

Padmé closed the entry ramp once Bail and Yoda were aboard, and the three of them walked the stark white corridors, moving slowly to keep Yoda's pace. The ancient Jedi had lost his robe and walking stick in his battle with Palpatine, and he seemed to be in some pain.

"Sabé contacted Obi-Wan shortly after you left," Padmé told him. "He's gone to Mustafar, following a lead about General Grievous. We thought it might be likely that Anakin has gone to ally himself with him."

"Then to Mustafar, we must go," Yoda said, the growl of his voice heavily tainted with fatigue. "Rest, I must, if to help Obi-Wan, I am."

"I'll show you to your quarters," Bail offered. To Padmé, he added, "I'll meet you in the conference room."

She nodded, deciding to follow Gregar and let him know what was going on. For a brief moment she considered waking Sabé, but decided against it. Waiting was painful, and it would be better for her friend to spend some of it oblivious.

 _Come back alive, Obi-Wan_ , she thought, offering up a silent prayer to the universe. _For her sake if not for your own._

Deliberately, she did not let herself think about the man he was facing. She wasn't sure that he'd be facing anyone they knew anyway. Not anymore.

* * *

Obi-Wan stepped out of his borrowed ship into Mustafar's eternal night and grimaced. It was nothing but dark and smoke and charred rock for as far as the eye could see, interwoven with the treacherous glow of its lava rivers. He'd studied many of the galaxy's religions in his time, and found himself thinking of those that envisioned hell. He could not imagine finding a place more like those stories than this one.

The ground beneath his feet trembled, reminding him of the planet's volcanic state. There were few buildings to see, but those that there were sat on stabilising struts, jutting up out of the rocks, surrounded by an energy shield that protected them from the extreme conditions. Along the banks of the river, mining droids worked tirelessly. There were no other signs of habitation.

Pulling the Light around him like a protective cloak, Obi-Wan steeled himself and walked towards the nearest structure. On the next landing platform sat a familiar-looking fighter, and beside it an astromech droid almost frantic with worry. Artoo-Deetoo shot over towards him as fast as possible, almost crashing into his legs. The barrage of beeps and whistles were indecipherable to him as always, but he picked up on the general mood of the droid.

"I know something's wrong," he said, resting a hand on the top of Artoo's domed casing. "You know I have to fix it, don't you?"

The droid beeped mournfully, and Obi-Wan wondered at the extent of the change in Anakin to make Artoo notice.

"Did he go this way?"

Artoo whistled an affirmative, and Obi-Wan started walking.

"Stay here."

Leaving the expressive little droid behind, he started along the narrow walkway to the nearest building. Inside, carnage greeted him. The bodies of the Separatist leaders lay strewn about, their injuries eerily similar to those he'd seen on his fallen Jedi brethren. He recognised one or two, and noted that Nute Gunray, the Neimoidian responsible for trying to kill Padmé multiple times, appeared to have suffered the most.

Obi-Wan shook his head, working to bite down his distress. It was truly sobering to see what Anakin was willing to do for his new master. Having obtained his Empire, Palpatine had no need for the Separatists anymore, who had proven themselves untrustworthy simply by _being_ Separatists. Every living being that Anakin cut down in anger, even those who were enemies of the Jedi and the Republic, pushed him further into the darkness. On the security holos, Obi-Wan had heard Palpatine call him another name, a Sith name. He was finding it hard not to see such an act as irreversible. Even if he'd gladly taken the moniker of Darth Vader, Anakin could still come back and repent, but only if he truly wanted to. As much as Obi-Wan might wish for his former Padawan to want to be saved, he realised he was expecting him not to, and that thought _hurt_.

He exhaled, expelling the negative, unhelpful emotions. He needed to focus on what lay ahead and stop floundering in speculation. Leaving the bodies of the Separatists behind, he continued on through the building, which seemed to be some sort of production or control centre for the mining operation.

After determining that the rest of the place held nothing but the occasional addition to the body count, Obi-Wan found his way back outside, onto a balcony that overlooked another, larger landing platform. It was empty of ships, but he saw Anakin there, standing over a wounded General Grievous. With one smooth and swift motion, Anakin's saber blade lanced forwards, piercing the cyborg's armour and penetrating the living heart within.

Obi-Wan made no move to stop him, although he felt conflicted by the decision. It had been clear for a number of months that the Jedi would send someone after Grievous eventually. The general would have been another casualty of the war. Yet, when faced with Grievous and Anakin, two people that Obi-Wan was meant to consider his enemy, it seemed callous to simply let one take out the other.

Anakin stepped back from Grievous's slumped body, his shoulders tense. He clearly knew he had company, and he knew exactly who. Obi-Wan didn't bother masking himself, but walked the path down to the platform. Anakin turned to face him, unhurried. His face was calm. Pale, gaunt, with deep shadows underlying reddened eyes, but calm. As he got closer, Obi-Wan could see the hint of yellow in his gaze that Padmé had described, and it chilled him. Anakin's whole appearance chilled him. Similar enough that he was still Anakin, but jarringly, painfully different.

"Hello, Anakin," Obi-Wan greeted him cautiously.

"Congratulations on your survival, my old master," Anakin answered. His tone was conversational, an uncharacteristic touch of sarcasm adding a hard edge to his voice. "I'm not really surprised. If anyone could have, it would have been you."

"Perhaps not, had I been at the Temple," Obi-Wan said evenly. "Would you have cut me down, old friend? With the rest of them? With the younglings?" The accusation was there in the words, if not in the way he spoke them.

Anakin shrugged. "If you stood in my way, I'd have had no choice."

"And now?"

"That still stands. You can ally yourself with me, Obi-Wan," he said, although his rather blank expression didn't change. "No harm will come to you, and you'll have a high position in my new Empire."

" _Your_ Empire?" Obi-Wan exclaimed, taming his surprise and adding calmly, "I thought this was Palpatine's Empire."

"The Emperor has brought peace to the galaxy. Once he gives me what he promised, we won't need him anymore," Anakin said recklessly, a hint of triumphant light in his eyes as he considered the possible future. "I can rule, I can make it so that there are no more wars, no more slavery."

His words and behaviour were setting Obi-Wan's alarms ringing, making him feel unsettled. "What has he promised you?" he asked, although he was wary of the answer.

"Revenge," Anakin growled. Obi-Wan must have made some involuntary movement, as he quickly went on, "No, don't say her name. Don't even think it." His face contorted as he continued, the anger plain to see there. "She vowed to be loyal, to be mine forever, and she betrayed me with another. Her disappearance is proof of her guilt. The Emperor will help me track her down. She'll pay for making a fool out of me, for twisting something that was pure and good." His voice rose to something near shouting. "Do you see what I've had to do? I needed her. She knew I needed her and she still… It's her fault."

"You know that isn't true, Anakin. The things you've done are on you, not Padmé." Obi-Wan was not insensitive to the fact that his friend was hurting, but it was not an excuse. "I can help you repent if you come with me now. We can turn this around."

"Repent?" Anakin scoffed. "I won't apologise for taking out the Separatists, you _know_ how dangerous they were."

"And the Jedi?" Obi-Wan could not help asking.

Anakin's voice was cold with malice. "The Jedi lied to me. I found Mace Windu about to assassinate the Emperor in cold blood. Is that the Jedi way? All these years they've restricted me, held me back, only to scheme and deceive behind the scenes. Just look at what they did to Ahsoka. They betrayed her too. Look at what they made _you_ do! You lied to your friends, made them think you were dead just for some mission!"

"I do what I must," Obi-Wan reminded him. "For a greater purpose."

"And so do I," Anakin said haughtily.

"Revenge is not a greater purpose," Obi-Wan retorted sharply. "It's self-absorbed, and it will blind and consume you. Don't let it."

"I can't let it stand, Obi-Wan. I _won't_. I risked everything to be with her. _Everything_. She lied. They all lie. While I was fighting to make the galaxy safe for her, she was with someone else."

"Things are rarely as simple as that."

He'd tried to inject calmness and rationality again, but his words sparked suspicion in his former apprentice.

"You know something about this, don't you?" Anakin asked, voice low and dangerous. "You know who her lover is! Tell me!"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Padmé's private life is her own, I'm not privy to all of her secrets."

"No, but your _wife_ is," Anakin snapped scornfully. "What do you know?"

"Sabé would never betray her friend's confidence even if I asked her. You know that."

"Right, because you two never talk," he said with open sarcasm before his tone turned deeply bitter. "Do you have any idea of the gift you were given? To be married openly and still a part of the Order. You had everything I ever wanted! And you didn't appreciate it for a second because you married someone you didn't love. Do you even realise how much I should despise you for that?"

Obi-Wan tried to hide his shock at Anakin's unleashed vitriol, reaching for a topic to try and get them both on the same page once more. "I've never told you this, Anakin, but I happen to agree with you about something. The Jedi were wrong to think that love is a weakness. I believe it can be a strength. But love is not love if it falls into obsession, possessiveness or dependence."

"Don't preach to me," Anakin spat, rolling his eyes, which were a brighter shade of amber than they had been at the start of the conversation.

Obi-Wan looked into his friend's face, seeing a man twisted by suspicion, hurt and fury, a man almost too far gone to return, and felt despair wash over him. "I have failed you, Anakin," he stated, accepting some culpability. "If I'd been honest about what I suspected, what I knew, then perhaps the secrecy wouldn't have damaged you so, wouldn't have left you vulnerable to Palpatine."

Anakin snorted. "I'm not vulnerable. The Emperor's guidance has made me stronger than I've ever been! And now I'm done talking. Are you with me or against me?"

The flat, absolute statement lay between them, a gauntlet thrown down. Obi-Wan reached out for the Light once again, letting it flow through him, cleansing his horror and fear and sorrow. When he spoke again, it was with the composed, resolute tones of the Negotiator. "You'll always be one of the best friends I've ever had, but I cannot condone what you've done. And if you won't stand down and stop this madness, then I must stop you."

Anakin laughed, a terrible, mocking sound. "Careful, there. That sounds a whole lot like attachment, Master Kenobi." He smiled, but it did not look like Anakin's smile, and ignited the cerulean blade in his hand.

"Don't," Obi-Wan spoke up. A plea. A warning.

Anakin leapt towards him, and was halfway across the landing platform before Obi-Wan had even activated his lightsaber. He blocked the blow, and Anakin smirked at him, acknowledging his decision to wait until the last possible moment before committing to the fight. Staring at each other over their crossed blades, Obi-Wan took in the frightening changes in his friend's face, finally accepting with bone-deep weariness that the man he was fighting was no longer Anakin Skywalker but Darth Vader. He had to think of them separately if he was to have any chance of defeating his enemy, and yet he knew it would be foolish to forget Anakin altogether. Vader had Anakin's skills and knowledge, Anakin's memories of training and sparring together. He would know every move that Obi-Wan made, and how to counter it. Vader posed a greater threat to his life than Maul had ever done.

Perhaps this was what the Jedi had intended to avoid by forbidding attachments. Obi-Wan was too close to Anakin for the fight to be easy for either of them. Still, he delved deeply into his training, shrouding himself in layers of calm focus, as much impassiveness as he could muster, and the sense of justice that he was in the right in eliminating the threat of Vader, (although that thought wasn't anywhere near as comforting as it should have been). His body moved automatically, blocking every blow, matching his opponent in strength and skill.

Their fierce battle took them off the landing platform and back through the building, each of them stretching their abilities to the fullest as they tried to stay alive and focused. Obi-Wan knew it couldn't last. They were so evenly matched that it was simply a matter of waiting for one of them to tire and make a mistake.

In the confined space of the building, their sabers cut through consoles and walls, leaving behind scorched scars of collateral damage. Alarms began to wail, and Obi-Wan saw in his peripheral vision that one of them had accidentally done _something_ that the automated systems didn't like. A diagram on a holo display indicated that the ray shield that protected the structure from the intense heat of the lava had been damaged. The room began to shudder, throwing them both off balance.

"We can't stay here," he spoke up, taking advantage of the few seconds of breathing space. "It's not safe."

"And what part of a lightsaber duel _is_ considered safe?" Anakin snarled sardonically.

But he turned and bolted for the corridor to the exit, Obi-Wan hard on his heels. The walkway they'd used to reach the building had already collapsed, leaving the landing platform where Grievous lay isolated. The air was a hail storm of scalding chips of rock, thrown up by the volcanos.

Another tremor sent Anakin staggering backwards. Obi-Wan stumbled, then backed into a small alcove near the door, struggling to catch his breath in the thick, oppressive heat. With a sinking heart, he accepted the truth that was gradually making itself known to him. He was going to lose. He was tiring faster than Anakin, still not fully recovered from healing Sabé. And to think that that had been something Anakin had chided him for. Now he must be celebrating the advantage handed to him by Obi-Wan trying to run before he could walk. Not that he regretted it. Sabé's life – any life – was worth it. Yet, he dreaded to think what Palpatine and Vader would accomplish if he and Yoda failed.

 _I can't. I can't fail._

He pushed off the wall as the balcony stabilised, just in time to block Anakin as he charged forwards.

 _If I fail they'll all die. Padmé and Gregar will die. Sabé will die. I can't let that happen. I_ won't _let that happen._

He flung out a hand, Force-pushing a startled Anakin several feet, allowing him to press the advantage. Anakin bared his teeth, his defensive moves almost as aggressive as those of his offense. A wide sweep of Anakin's blade severed a nearby strut, and the balcony collapsed, sending them both tumbling down onto a bank of hot black sand.

Obi-Wan slid on the loose gravel, feeling a momentary flare of alarm as gravity pulled him down towards the lava river. He quashed it, reaching for the Force and using it to channel his downward momentum into a leap forwards. It steered him true, and his boot soles hit the solid surface of a small repulsor unit gliding above the surface of the river.

He watched as Anakin continued to slide, his heart clenching as his former apprentice showed a brief, vivid flash of fear. Then Vader's grimace returned to his face, and he mirrored Obi-Wan's move, soaring out across the lava to land on one of the mining droids. It was tiny, and Anakin had to extend his arms for stability. Obi-Wan eyed his opponent's unguarded torso, his precarious balance, and knew how easy victory would be. He merely had to reach out and push with the Force, or send his lightsaber whirling forward. Yet, he hesitated.

Anakin regained his footing and sprang forward like a nexu, landing just barely on the far end of the repulsorlift.

"You see?" he hissed as their blades locked once more. "Compassion is a weakness, my old master."

Obi-Wan said nothing, pouring his focus into blocking Anakin's moves. The repulsor unit was only a metre or so long, and it was intense to fight in such close quarters with barely any range of movement. He'd lose all the faster if he didn't take the battle somewhere else.

The repulsor, its programming not sophisticated enough to realise it had passengers, had continued on its set path down the river, and Obi-Wan managed to knock Anakin backwards, allowing him to jump over to the bank. It was sloped at a much gentler angle than the one that had almost dropped them both in the river, and he found his footing much easier. Anakin glared up at him from the repulsor, holding it stationary with the Force.

"You can't keep running, Obi-Wan," he called. "I can see you're worn-out. It'll all be over soon."

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed, his soft, despondent tone almost lost amongst the ongoing roar of Mustafar's volcanos. "One way or another."

He wasn't sure if it was the Force or simply a warrior's instinct, but he knew how it would end now. Now he stood where he was, looking down at his friend-turned-enemy.

"I'll make it quick for old time's sake," Anakin went on. "After all, without your teachings, I wouldn't be who I am."

 _That_ stung. Obi-Wan grimaced, swallowing hard.

Anakin smiled up at him, that arrogant, predatory smile. "And when we're done here, I'll find _her_." The smile melted into a twist of fury. "I'll find them _both_. And I'll make them pay. Sabé too, if she gets in my way."

Obi-Wan wanted to close his eyes, to find a way to let go of his fear for his friends, but he didn't dare take his gaze off Anakin…Vader. He was suddenly fiercely grateful that Anakin had always assumed it was Duchess Satine who held his heart. If he'd known the truth, who knew what he would do to Sabé merely out of spite or vengeance. And he was grateful, too, that Satine was gone, far out of Anakin's reach.

"You won't touch them, Anakin," Obi-Wan said firmly.

"You underestimate the Dark Side," Anakin declared. "You underestimate _me_."

"And you underestimate what I will do to protect them," Obi-Wan avowed, his voice ringing with authority.

With a feral snarl, Anakin jumped off the repulsorlift, twisting in mid-air with the intention of landing behind him and gaining the high ground. But the terrain, as Obi-Wan had known it would, gave him the advantage. With a few quick slashes of his blade, he cut off Anakin's left arm and both legs at the knee.

Anakin yelled in pain and outrage, tumbling back down the bank to lie at the bottom of the slope. Obi-Wan watched, feeling his saber tremble in his hand. How had it come to this? He could scarcely believe the speed at which everything had changed, and yet they'd all been playing their parts for some time.

"You were the Chosen One!" he burst out, feeling a sudden flare of anger at what he'd been forced to do, what Anakin's choices had led him to. " _This_ wasn't supposed to be your destiny."

"I…was destined to bring…balance," Anakin rasped, his face contorted with agony. "It never said…to which side." The words were followed with a single, defiant bark of laughter, and despite the unbearable heat from the river, Obi-Wan felt his spine turn to ice.

"You were my friend, my brother," he said, sombre now. "I loved you."

"Compassion…is…weakness," Anakin spat.

A splash of lava sprung out of the river, igniting the singed edge of Anakin's clothing. It rapidly spread, bathing his tortured body in flames. He screamed, and the sound of it shot straight to Obi-Wan's heart. He turned away, unable to watch. His saber felt heavy in his palm, and he knew he should ignite it once more, put Anakin out of his misery.

"I hate you!" Anakin managed to scream, drawing his attention once more.

It was a sight that would stay with him until the end of his days. Anakin's raw and blistered skin, his hair all but gone already, his expression warped with anguish and a rage so deeply ingrained, it would never leave him. And through it all, those sickening yellow eyes, repeating his final three words silently over and over.

It would be a mercy to kill him, but Obi-Wan found himself uncharacteristically frozen, _knowing_ it would be merciful, but also knowing that he'd never struck down someone so utterly helpless. And then movement above caught his eye, a ship approaching. It was not one he recognised, and belatedly he grasped that Anakin's distress was probably broadcasting to the Emperor.

 _Master Yoda failed_ , he realised with a pang. _And I'm in no shape to fight another Sith lord._

He stooped to pick up Anakin's lightsaber, stumbling away from his former friend's enraged screams. The ship, which he now recalled as the former Chancellor's personal shuttle, set down on the far landing platform, where Grievous's body lay. It was a small blessing that he silently thanked the Force for, running towards his own, much closer ship. Artoo-Deetoo was waiting for him near the entry ramp, and he left the little droid to close the hatch, heading straight for the cockpit.

Moving as swiftly as possible, Obi-Wan powered the ship up, firing the engines as soon as Artoo whistled an all-clear over the com. He angled it at a steep incline, keen to clear the atmosphere before Palpatine realised he was there.

"Code nine-four-two, this is Ben, respond." He sent the message out over a secure channel and waited.

"We're receiving you, Ben," came a voice that he didn't know.

It was quickly followed by one he did. "We're almost at your position," Gregar reported.

"No! Halt where you are, I'll come to you. The Emperor is on Mustafar."

"Copy that, sending you our coordinates."

Within half an hour, he emerged from lightspeed to see _Tantive IV_ waiting for him, and he guided his ship to lock onto its docking hatch. Before stepping from one ship to another, he hesitated, reaching for his composure, aware that he'd be facing many people eager for news. But when the final hatch opened, the corridor held only Sabé.

He didn't know how she'd known, he didn't know how she'd managed it, all he knew was how grateful and relieved and weary he felt. He stumbled from the hatch, only vaguely aware of Artoo behind him, and met her concerned gaze. She was wide-eyed, troubled as she studied him, and he wondered how much she could read in his face. Without a word, she darted forward, clasping him in a tight hug.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her, and let her support him.

Just for a moment.


	31. New Life

**A/N:** Post Mustafar fallout.

Posting on a Friday because I have a really busy weekend ahead. Review replies may be late for that reason.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-One – New Life.**

Sabé sat around _Tantive IV_ 's conference table with Obi-Wan, Padmé, Gregar, Bail and Yoda. She wasn't used to being a part of important discussions rather than standing by as security, but Padmé had insisted on including her and Gregar. Obi-Wan had returned to the ship a little over an hour ago, and since then Captain Antilles had been putting as much distance as possible between them and Mustafar.

Sabé studied Obi-Wan across the table, hating his haunted look. So far he'd only spoken to Yoda about what had happened, but she knew that the events had been hard on him, and was grateful that she'd had the foresight to ensure that only she had greeted him. She was grateful, too, that Yoda didn't know about that. He'd only read more into it than was really there.

She'd been present when Obi-Wan's transmission had come through, had heard how tired and defeated he sounded. Instinctively, she'd known immediately what she had to do; normal, human instincts, and nothing Force-related. When she'd seen him, covered in soot and ash, with such a look of sorrow and despair on his face, she'd done the only thing she could and tried to help him bear his pain. In that moment he hadn't been a Jedi, but simply a man in need of comfort. She'd known full well that his control would return eventually and he'd face the galaxy as Master Kenobi once more. In the meantime, she held on tight and didn't let him go until he could stand tall again.

Blinking, Sabé realised she'd zoned out of some of the conversation, and sat straighter in her chair. Fortunately, it was unlikely that anyone would ask her opinion and catch her out.

Bail was just finishing relaying his plans, his face troubled. Sabé felt a pang of sympathy for him. His role was to go undercover and outwardly appear to support the Empire while trying to oppose it quietly on the side. In this he would be aided by Senator Mon Mothma, and many other loyalists that Padmé had attended meetings with. It wouldn't be easy to sit back and see Palpatine make questionable decisions, but Bail seemed to be a man of quiet strength, and Sabé had no doubt that he was up to the task.

Yoda had already told them all a brief version of what had happened when he'd gone to face the newly crowned Emperor and how he'd barely escaped with his life. Before that, he'd given an even briefer summary of what they'd discovered at the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan chipped in here and there, but largely let Yoda tell it. The others had already been told a little, but it seemed important to discuss everything at length with the whole group present.

In a voice a touch more sombre than usual, Obi-Wan told them what had happened on Mustafar. He did not shy away from any of it, and Sabé saw Padmé's eyes glistening with tears as he spoke. Sabé fought to keep her horror from her face, wanting nothing more than to help him bear the burden of what he'd had to do.

There was no judgement from anyone around the table. They all knew how impossibly hard the task had been for him, and it had been vital for him to escape when he had. Even Yoda did not speak of it, mindful, perhaps, of his own failure.

Despite her tears, Padmé's voice was clear as she asked, "Do you think he survived?"

Obi-Wan met her gaze, looking uncertain. "I don't know. We've seen Sith return from grave injuries before. But even if he does survive, I can't see…I can't see how…" He trailed off helplessly.

"In time, revealed, the answer will be," Yoda said sagely. "Regardless of Darth Vader's survival, the Empire we must avoid."

"You suggest exile, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I do. Know of a place, I do, strong with the Dark Side. Be well hidden there, I will."

Obi-Wan frowned but said nothing.

"Where?" Bail asked. "We can take you there."

"Dagobah," Yoda replied. "A swamp planet, it is. Humble living can be good for the spirit."

Sabé wasn't sure how he managed to sound so optimistic, all things considered.

"And you plan to stay there alone, Master?" Obi-Wan spoke up.

Yoda nodded. "Separated, we must remain. For the future of the Order."

Sabé saw the wisdom in that, sobering though it was to have to consider the possibility of one of them being discovered by the Empire.

"What of you, Senator Amidala?" Bail asked, turning to Padmé.

She gave a short, humourless laugh. "I think it's just Padmé now. And I don't know. Whether or not Anakin…Vader…is alive, I'm still an enemy of the Empire. I'm certain that Anakin would have shared his anger at me with his master, so I can't go back. Besides, my absence from Palpatine's moment of glory is already suspicious. I'll have to go into hiding too."

"That will be doubly important if he _is_ alive," Gregar pointed out.

"Yes. The question is where do I go? Naboo is the first place they'll look. Unless they don't think I'd be that stupid." She shrugged as she second-guessed herself.

"I would avoid Naboo for now," Sabé advised. "Whether they think you'd be that stupid or not, they'll probably post a squadron there just in case."

"I agree," Obi-Wan said. "We should look to the Outer Rim."

"We?" Sabé and Padmé said together.

All eyes turned to Obi-Wan, and he nodded. "If Vader does resurface, it will be because of my failure. It's my duty to ensure your safety should that happen."

Padmé bowed her head to him formally, although her little smile was warm. "In that case, I accept your help, Master Kenobi."

Yoda nodded in approval of the plan. Sabé bit her tongue to keep from smiling. She'd been silently dreading the moment the meeting broke up, assuming that Yoda and Obi-Wan would be off on some Jedi business. To learn that he'd be close by a little longer made her feel almost giddy with relief.

"Where will you go?" Bail asked.

"Somewhere remote," Obi-Wan replied, "that has little to interest an Empire."

"There's Jakku or Hoth," Sabé suggested. "Although they might be a little _too_ remote."

Padmé nodded, her expression almost making Sabé smile. Clearly she couldn't see herself managing in such extreme climates. If she was being truthful, Sabé couldn't really see it either.

"Takodana?" said Gregar. "It's in the Western Reaches in the Mid Rim, but it's neutral. There are large areas of forest where we could lay low."

"Hmm," Yoda spoke up, cupping his chin. "A good suggestion."

"Don't smugglers and bounty hunters pass through there all the time?" Bail asked dubiously.

"Yes, but only through the towns," Gregar answered him. "We'd be safe in the forest making occasional supply runs."

"The Jedi and the Sith fought a battle there thousands of years ago," Obi-Wan said. "Are we certain that the site wouldn't be of interest to Palpatine?"

"Built on, the battleground has been," Yoda informed him. "Little of significance lies there now."

"But we can avoid that area, just in case," Sabé said.

They all looked to Padmé for the final say, and she nodded. "Takodana, then."

* * *

After finalising further details, the group went its separate ways. Bail would drop Yoda off at Dagobah before returning to Coruscant, while the others flew Obi-Wan's 'borrowed' ship in the direction of Takodana. They left the two droids with Bail, knowing they'd be well taken care of in his service.

Since the ship was a small one designed for short journeys, they accepted a sum of credits from Bail to upgrade it at the nearest spaceport. Adding the money they received from selling it, they had enough to purchase a freighter that had more room. It had clearly seen better days, but it flew well enough.

Upon arriving at the lush, forested planet, they set the ship down on the outskirts of a bustling town, where Sabé and Gregar ventured out for supplies. They had surmised that they were the least recognisable, but Sabé was wary anyway. A Padmé Amidala lookalike and a one-eyed man could make an impression, after all. Fortunately it was warm enough for Gregar to forego the hat and outer tunic of his uniform. The plain shirt underneath made him look less like a security officer, and ensured that neither of them wore anything that tied them to Naboo.

When they returned lugging food supplies, clothing, fuel, and the basics of camp making, they piloted away to a remote part of the forest. Obi-Wan set the ship down beside a rocky outcrop, where it was shielded from view by shadow and the leafy canopy of trees.

Sabé stood with the others on the loamy ground, looking around at the small clearing that was to be their home for however long. Sunlight filtered down through the leaves high above, painting the scenery golden and green. The air was temperate and smelled amazing after the interior of ships, and Coruscant before that. A stream burbled nearby, coming down from the rocks, which would provide them with fresh water. All in all, it could be worse.

She reflected on the home she'd had with Obi-Wan in their apartment back on Coruscant. It felt like a lifetime ago that that had been normal routine, yet it was mere days. She'd been completely convinced that the safe-house was the only semblance of domesticity she'd ever get with Obi-Wan. Now she was facing another opportunity, albeit a vastly different one. Perhaps it was selfish, but she was grateful. Obi-Wan needed a place like Takodana to rest and heal.

Padmé had been through a lot too, and was looking tired now that the pace of things had slowed. Still, she chipped in with the rest of them to set up their supplies. Sabé let her feel that she had helped before sending her back to the ship to rest. It wasn't long before Gregar went to check on her.

Sabé exchanged a knowing look with Obi-Wan, and he almost looked like himself again as he smiled back at her. Despite everything, seeing their friends take their chance for happiness was a pleasant moment. They remained outside in companionable silence, giving Padmé and Gregar space to talk privately. Obi-Wan was busy adding ingredients to the pot he had heating on a fire, and Sabé sniffed at it appreciatively. She sat nearby, laboriously mending a tear in her cloak, cursing her own laziness in letting droids fix things for her in the past.

Obi-Wan had had a little time to meditate on the journey, and seemed calmer for it. Sabé knew it would be a long time before he fully healed, however.

"You do realise that we're still married," Obi-Wan spoke up, his quiet words catching her attention at once. "And with our current situation, it's unlikely that it will ever be annulled."

Sabé nodded. She'd realised it. Of _course_ she'd realised it. "I know. It can't be annulled without an official record, and we can't commit our names to that now."

He sent her an acknowledging glance, and silence fell, broken only by the gentle scrape of the stirring spoon.

Sabé looked down at her sewing, choosing to focus on her stitches as she cautiously asked, "Does it bother you?"

"No." The answer came without hesitation, spoken with plain honesty.

She lifted her head and met his gaze, curious to read more into it. He looked his usual composed self, but he asked his next question with gentle sensitivity.

"Does it bother _you_?"

She knew why he was asking. Their discussions over time had covered the topics that concerned him about their arrangement. At the very beginning he'd been worried that she'd regret not being free to marry someone else. Now, with her secret out in the open, she knew he'd be worried that being tied to him would prevent her from moving on. If she was being completely honest with herself, she suspected he might technically be right, but stubbornly she didn't _want_ to move on. She couldn't imagine feeling the same way about anyone else that she did about him. Even if nothing came of it – which it wouldn't – she was committed to her love for him. It was part of who she was now.

"No," she told him truthfully, a tiny smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "It never could."

She expected him to reiterate that he could never be what she wanted him to be, but he remained silent, reflective. When he spoke again several minutes later, it was to start a different topic.

"Have you thought about contacting your family?"

Sabé tied off her thread, shaking her head. "No. It would be safer for them if I don't. I'm sure Palpatine is already questioning them about Padmé's whereabouts. At least they can be truthful about what they know."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, it could put them in a difficult position if they have to lie about hearing from you."

"Exactly. I don't want to worry them, but that seems unavoidable. Maybe when things have died down it will be safe enough to send Idriel a letter."

Footsteps on the ship's ramp cut the conversation off, and Padmé and Gregar joined them at the little lounge area they'd made by dragging some fallen logs around the fire pit.

"That smells amazing, Obi-Wan," Padmé greeted.

She seemed refreshed for her rest, and Sabé was glad her distressing experiences hadn't diminished her appetite. In fact, it seemed better than when she'd been worried and stressed, and Sabé and Moteé had struggled to get her to eat properly.

"We'll see if it lives up to its promise," Obi-Wan replied lightly. "Another five minutes should do it."

Silence fell, and the group exchanged glances, seeming in a single moment to convey their support for each other, their acknowledgement that they were going to make the best of the unusual situation. Sabé knew it was going to be hard for Padmé to be away from the political scene, to feel that she couldn't accomplish anything. Sabé suspected it would hit her friend as soon as Padmé had stopped feeling the initial surge of thankfulness that they'd all escaped unscathed. She was convinced that they'd have a fight on their hands to keep her from finding some other way to act against the Empire. Padmé was unlikely to be satisfied with simply surviving with no cause to back. Sabé and Gregar had a duty to her regardless of what she chose to do.

Casual conversation sprung up as Obi-Wan served the stew he'd made, and they all settled down to eat. But for the location, Sabé could almost imagine it was just another dinner among friends. It was peaceful in the woods, and she couldn't help feeling a little guilty. The galaxy was in chaos, but she felt something not unlike contentment that they were all safe. It took the edge off her guilt to know that Bail Organa was setting things up behind the scenes. When he'd established what he wanted, he knew how to contact them. They'd be called back into the fray eventually, but that could easily take years.

After the meal, Padmé stood up and gathered the dishes. "I'll go wash these in the stream," she said, stacking them neatly.

Sabé protested, as did Gregar, but Padmé halted them both with a glare.

"You're all here to protect me, and I'm truly grateful for that. But I will not be fussed over and treated like I'm too high and mighty to do basic tasks," she announced firmly. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, Padmé," Sabé and Gregar obediently said in turn.

Padmé nodded with satisfaction. "Obi-Wan?"

He looked startled to be singled out, but nodded, managing not to smile as he said, "Yes, Padmé."

"Good."

With that, she turned and walked determinedly towards the stream. The others exchanged amused looks behind her back.

As night fell, they remained around the fire pit, making what plans they could for their stay. They all agreed that it was risky to use the ship's systems to check the HoloNet, and so decided that whenever one of them ventured to a settlement, gathering news would also be a priority alongside fetching supplies.

Sabé raised her concerns about being recognised. "Padmé, your face is known throughout the galaxy, even on a neutral world like this. I perhaps still look enough like you to draw attention. I wouldn't be surprised if the Emperor makes any known living Jedi notorious," she said, turning to Obi-Wan. "And there's always a possibility that someone will remember Padmé Amidala's one-eyed security chief."

"What do you suggest?" Obi-Wan asked. "Disguises?"

"Maybe. Or maybe we just try and alter our appearances enough that we can blend in more."

"There's not much I can do about the eye," Gregar said dryly. "Huh, maybe I should have taken that synthetic one they offered me. I thought I was being true to myself and my experiences by refusing it."

"Maybe have a cloth patch instead of that one?" Sabé suggested. "Or leave it off…"

"Because no one will stare at a man with a gaping hole in his face," Gregar cut across with good-natured sarcasm.

Sabé wrinkled her nose at him. "I wasn't finished! I was going to say leave it off but wear a low hood."

"I'll think of something."

"And I suppose we'll be changing our hair, Sabé?" Padmé asked, a tiny smile gracing her face.

"It couldn't hurt. I'll head into town tomorrow and see if anywhere sells hair dye." If anyone thought she was overreacting, they kept it to themselves.

Sleeping arrangements proved to be interesting. The ship was large enough that they could all sleep on board it, eliminating the need to construct shelters outside. Without any prior discussion, Sabé and Obi-Wan graciously gave up one of the two cabins to their friends. Padmé and Gregar's relationship was new, but they both took comfort in being close, and they seemed grateful to be able to share a room.

Sabé ducked into the second cabin and looked around at the tiny space. She shot an inquisitive look at Obi-Wan.

"Which bunk do you want?"

"Bottom," he answered without hesitation. "You can clamber up there much easier than I can."

"How do you know?" she retorted, but tugged off her boots and ascended anyway.

Lying down placed her just a little higher than eye level, and he sent her a fond smile before disappearing as he sat on his own bed.

Since they didn't want to drain the ship's power reserves, the group chose not to run the climate control, but bundled up in blankets to combat the night chill. With two bodies in each small room, the temperature stayed relatively warm anyway. Sabé awoke still comfortably rolled in her blanket, full of suspicion that Obi-Wan had barely slept at all. It was to be expected, after everything he'd been through, but it made her feel irrationally guilty to wake up and see him meditating on the floor. She sneaked out to the fresher without disturbing him, knowing he had to work through things on his own.

Over the next few weeks, the four of them settled into a strangely peaceful domesticity. It seemed at odds with the huge changes happening in the galaxy, but they'd found their own space, falling into little routines in their makeshift camp as they found ways to fend for themselves.

Sabé, Obi-Wan and Gregar thrived in the forest, taking long jogs and climbing trees to stay in shape. Padmé, however, seemed to wilt a little, and Sabé worried that a life so different from her chosen career was starting to grate on her.

"I'm fine, Sabé," Padmé tried to insist one day, pushing her newly blonde hair over her shoulder. "I'm just feeling a little under the weather. I'll be fine when I've slept some more."

"You're sleeping a lot," Sabé pointed out, a frown marring her forehead.

"I'm just not used to things being this quiet. My body's not sure how to distribute my energy."

Padmé had taken up a hobby making scarves with the yarn they bought in town, which they then sold for a few extra credits, but everyone could tell she was restless. The news they had managed to gather had told them every new policy Palpatine was implementing, as well as the worrying reveal of his new enforcer, Darth Vader. They had all taken in that piece of information with grim silence, taking a moment to consider what it meant for them that Anakin – what was left of him anyway – was still alive. Sabé knew Obi-Wan was unfairly blaming himself, but meditation and reflection seemed to be helping him come to terms with everything that had happened.

He had shaved off his beard and was letting his hair grow out from its precise, military look. It rendered him almost unrecognisable as General Kenobi, to all except those who remembered him from his Padawan days. Sabé still vividly recalled the kisses they had shared on their wedding night, and couldn't help but wonder how different it might feel now. She shut the thoughts down whenever they emerged, but they could be annoyingly persistent.

She shook her head, feeling her now-jaw-length hair swish gently against the back of her neck. It stuck out in unruly waves much more than it had when it was long, and she didn't mind the change of look. Handmaidens were expected to be adaptable, and Sabé had never been very materialistic.

"It suits you," Obi-Wan commented, watching her movements.

She turned to him, surprised that he would weigh in on something so unimportant. "Does it? I was aiming for different, not stylish."

He nodded, but offered no further illumination. They were walking the half-hour route into town for their bi-monthly supply run, dodging the light rain shower underneath the heavier tree coverage.

"This walk just makes me realise how lazy Coruscant made me," Sabé remarked, stepping over a fallen branch.

"You're hardly lazy," Obi-Wan replied, sounding amused.

"No, but training isn't the same as walking. I'm using different muscles. They all hate me."

He chuckled, and she smiled to hear it. It had been an all-too-rare occurrence of late.

When they broke the line of trees a few minutes later, emerging on the outskirts of town, Sabé took the arm he offered. To the townsfolk they were any other married couple. Sabé resting her hand in the crook of his elbow allowed them to look close and affectionate without going over the top and causing unnecessary awkwardness. Besides, in her senate days Padmé had often been escorted the same way by colleagues. It was a companionable way to walk with someone.

Still, it was easy to fall into the trap of getting too comfortable. Sabé never forgot their situation, of course, but neither could she ignore how effortless it was to slip back into their roles. Obi-Wan noticed it too, she was sure. There was a nonchalance to him that hadn't been there before, when he'd been surrounded by reminders of the Jedi Code. It wasn't that he was any less a Jedi than he'd been when the Order stood, but Sabé sometimes got the fleeting impression that a different future might be possible. She didn't want to get her hopes up, neither did she want to do anything that might influence him or turn him away from his ideals, but the idle thought remained nonetheless.

"I'll go and see what news I can pick up," Obi-Wan spoke up as they reached the edge of the market. "If you're all right to get what we need from here on your own."

"Think I can manage," she quipped, retrieving her hand. One of the regular traders was already eyeing them. Sabé recognised her, having sold a few pieces of scrap metal jewellery – the results of her own hobby – to her in the past. Feeling her gaze, Sabé stepped up on her toes and planted a kiss on Obi-Wan's strangely-smooth cheek. "Audience," she hissed as she sank back down on her heels.

He smiled, although she wasn't sure whose benefit it was for. "I assumed. See you shortly."

"Good luck."

His blandly-dressed figure disappeared down a side street, and Sabé turned her attention to the shopping list on her data pad. She headed over to the staring trader, already calculating how many of Padmé's scarves and her own necklaces she could exchange for the vegetables they needed.

* * *

Despite being firmly settled into life on Takodana, Padmé had started looking so unwell that Sabé insisted on taking her to see a medic in town. The fact that Padmé did not protest the idea told her everything she needed to know about how awful she was feeling.

After asking for directions from three different people, they eventually reached the establishment of a seemingly-reputable doctor. Sabé looked dubiously at the worn exterior of the building, but was pleasantly surprised by the hospitable and clean interior.

A Mirialan woman greeted them, her face lined with experience, a welcoming expression crinkling the tattoos on her cheeks. She wore dark robes and a tightly-fitting hood, and her calm presence reminded Sabé of a Jedi, although she was clearly not, judging by the commitment pendant she wore around her neck.

"Greetings, ladies," she said warmly. "How can I help you?"

Sabé gestured to a pale-looking Padmé. "My sister is ill," she explained. "We're not sure what's wrong."

"Okay," the medic said, with the air of one who'd seen and heard it all. "Come through, dear, we'll take a look at you. I'm Neraxis, by the way," she introduced, pausing meaningfully.

"I'm May," said Padmé quietly.

Sabé remained silent, unwilling to give out unnecessary information, even if it was false. She watched Padmé disappear into Neraxis's office, settling herself into an uncomfortable chair in the waiting area. After five minutes or so, an ageing Toydarian floated through the front door on small, leathery wings. A holo-message immediately activated, showing a smiling Neraxis.

"Hello. I'm just with a patient, please take a seat and I'll be with you shortly. Thank you."

The Toydarian grumbled, but drifted over to settle in one of the chairs. Sabé spotted a purple, aggravated rash marring the blue skin on the side of his neck, and she fervently hoped he wasn't contagious.

Another six or seven minutes went by, then Padmé emerged from the back room, her face even paler than it had been when she'd gone in. Neraxis said something quiet to her, patting her shoulder before turning her attention to the Toydarian. Sabé stood up to meet Padmé halfway to the door.

"Well?"

"Not here," Padmé mumbled, so softly that she barely caught it.

Instantly worried, Sabé followed her out of the building, through the streets until they were back under the cover of trees. After doing a quick sweep for prying eyes, Sabé reached for Padmé's arm.

"What's going on? Is it serious?"

"Pretty serious," Padmé said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Oh gods, what is it?" Sabé asked her.

"I…" She trailed off, letting out a tiny, humourless laugh. "I'm pregnant."

Sabé stared at her. "You're… How?"

"I don't know. And she can't explain it. She says my contraceptive implant was working perfectly. She deactivated it, just in case it harms the babies."

Sabé stared at her again. "Bab _ies_?"

Padmé nodded, shrugging helplessly. "Seems it's twins."

Sabé pulled her into a hug, because it seemed as if she desperately needed one.

"What am I going to do?" Padmé asked, the question muffled by Sabé's shoulder.

"Whatever you want to. If you want to keep them, you know we'll all support you. If not, we'll support that too."

"I want them," Padmé said firmly, pulling back and wiping her eyes. "I'm just…I'm scared."

Sabé nodded sympathetically. "I know, but it will be okay. It's wonderful."

"Is it?" Padmé retorted cynically. "How can it be? What am I going to tell them about their father?"

Catching up, Sabé peered at her, taking in her anxious expression. "They're Anakin's?"

"Yes. Based on how far along I am…there's no doubt about it. In fact, Neraxis says I should start showing more within a week or two. It's only because I'm eating more that I didn't notice any changes already." She shook her head, looking lost. "What's Gregar going to think?"

"He'll think that he'd better prepare to be the galaxy's best step-dad," Sabé assured her gently, knowing she spoke the truth.

Padmé managed a wobbly smile, then dissolved into more tears. Sabé hugged her again, soothingly rubbing her back.

"I'm sorry," Padmé sobbed needlessly. "It's hormones."

Sabé laughed. "It's fine. You won't be alone, you know. None of us are going anywhere."

"I know."

"Come on, let's get back and tell the fellas," Sabé said, letting her go. "We've got a lot of planning to do."

* * *

 **A/N:** The twins are here! Sort of. So that answers that for those of you who were wondering if Padmé was pregnant, although Leia has already appeared in the prologue! I don't blame you if you forgot about that though, it was a while ago :)

No chapter next week because I'll be away.


	32. Confinement

**A/N:** I'm back! Time to discuss the fate of the twins.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Two – Confinement.**

The two men, although both surprised, reacted to the news in different ways. Gregar looked stunned as Padmé explained, but his expression quickly softened to one of hope, underlined with the natural apprehension of anyone with an expecting loved one. Padmé felt a rush of gratitude that he hadn't immediately flown into a jealous rage, but then she remembered that she didn't have to mentally prepare herself for Anakin's outbursts anymore.

Obi-Wan was more sombre, eyes fixed on hers reflectively as he considered everything she was saying. Padmé noticed Sabé watching his reactions with a worried expression, and she wondered what her friend had thought of that she herself had not yet.

"We should find a way to contact Master Yoda," Obi-Wan spoke up.

"Why?" Padmé retorted, instantly feeling protective over the two tiny lives she hadn't even known existed a scant few hours before. "It has nothing to do with him."

Obi-Wan looked at her with gentle compassion. "If they're Anakin's children, the chances of them being strong in the Force are high. The more they grow, the more they'll resonate. He must never know of their existence."

Padmé wholeheartedly agreed with his last statement, but it was the previous one that had her frowning. "What do you mean 'resonate'?"

"Within the Force," he explained, his eyes drifting shut. "I can sense them if I concentrate and know what I'm looking for. They're…like candles in a dark room. Like sunlight through a storm." His eyes opened and he blinked. "It's difficult to explain. But as they grow, as they start to gain knowledge of life and the Force, their brightness is going to shine like a beacon."

Padmé found her gaze fixed on his, sudden dread and comprehension dawning as he spoke. "How can we possibly hide them then?"

"We're safe here for a little while yet, but eventually…I think it might be wise to stay on the move."

"But…what about when I go into labour? I can't give birth on a ship with no medical personnel!"

"You won't," Sabé assured her, shooting a quick glance at Obi-Wan. "Will she? We can land somewhere for that."

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Is it worth contacting Senator Organa?" Gregar asked. "He may be the only person who we can trust to shelter us, plus provide us with high-quality medical facilities."

Padmé nodded at once. "Yes, I agree. At least Alderaan will be sanitary."

Obi-Wan considered the idea, and it seemed to Padmé that there was a spark of uncertainty in his face. He'd probably never had to factor a pregnant woman into his plans before.

"I think it will be safe enough," he said at length. "There are parts of Alderaan that are civilised but remote, and the Empire has little reason to have a large presence there assuming the senator is playing his part."

"But what about afterward," Sabé spoke up, her voice grave as she looked at everyone in turn. "You said the twins resonate now," she said to Obi-Wan. "What about when they're born? As they get older? How can we shield them?"

Padmé looked to Obi-Wan too, suddenly fearful of the answers to questions she hadn't wanted to consider.

"I don't know," he said. "That's why I'd prefer to discuss it with Master Yoda."

She sighed, but nodded. "Fine. Contact him. Let me know what he says."

Although there was no need anymore, Obi-Wan bowed his head to her before heading to the ship to make the call.

Padmé rested her palm against the gentle curve of her stomach. It was strange to think of it as what it really was, rather than an assumed side effect of her increased appetite, which, now she thought about it, was a product of the twins too. _They_ were the drain on her energy, not the loss of her career or the distress over what their father had become. Now she knew the truth, she could take better care of herself and them.

 _It must have happened during the last time…after Ahsoka left the Order and Anakin was so lost._

She remembered how she'd marched into battle with the others on Naboo, and felt an irrational flutter of fear at how she'd put her babies in danger.

 _I didn't know_ , she recited, countering the anxiety with logic. _And I wasn't hurt._

She felt a warm, reassuring hand on her shoulder and glanced up at Gregar's concerned face. Sabé had taken herself off out of their way, and was busy re-setting their fishing nets in the stream.

"How are you? Really?"

Padmé shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. Gregar stepped closer, his arm around her shoulders as he drew her towards him. Padmé rested her head in the crook of his neck and tried to relax.

"I'm afraid," she admitted. "Of everything. The pregnancy, what comes after… The Jedi are going to want my children, aren't they?"

The question was rhetorical, but he answered it anyway. "I'd be surprised if they didn't."

"I don't know if I can let that happen. After what happened to Anakin. To Ahoska, even."

"They'd have Obi-Wan as a teacher," Gregar reassured her.

"So did Anakin," she said. Regretting the harsh words, she amended, "I know what happened wasn't Obi-Wan's fault, but…the whole thing makes me wary."

"I understand," he said sincerely, "but you need to try not to worry about it now. I know that's difficult for you, but you can't be stressed. For their sake."

"I know. I'll try." She tilted her head back, looking up into his face. "I'll love them regardless," she said, feeling her tears well up again and inwardly cursing her confused hormones, "but I can't help but feel…If they were yours…none of this would be happening. We wouldn't be worried. We'd just be happy."

"We can still be happy," Gregar told her, sending her a gentle smile. "What matters is they're _yours_. And I know you've wanted kids ever since you became an aunt."

Padmé felt a smile break out. "That's true. You must…" She halted, considering the best way to ask him a very awkward and personal question. "You must wish that they were yours, though. Right?"

Gregar was silent for a long moment, and she saw him turning the question over in his mind. In the end, though, he would give her an honest answer. "Truthfully…a selfish part of me does. But on the whole I know it doesn't matter. Children aren't their fathers, and…I never liked him, but Anakin was a good man a lot longer than he was a bad one. And…you never know, the next time…"

"Next time?" she repeated, smile widening. "You think I'll want to do this again?"

"You might," he said, nudging her nose with his. "And if you do, I'll be willing to help."

She let out a soft laugh. "I don't know if I can believe that everything will be fine, but you make me want to. So badly."

"Let's settle for believing that it's possible."

Padmé nodded, kissing him to state her agreement. "I can do that."

With everything still in its relatively-early stages, she truly could, and when Obi-Wan reported that Yoda required time to think, it became even easier.

* * *

"What is it?"

Sabé asked the question after taking one brief look at Obi-Wan's face, and she watched him react with mild surprise.

"What makes you ask?"

"You're not as good at hiding your expressions as you think," she told him bluntly, turning from him to rinse her hands in the stream. Preparing meat for cooking was an unpleasant job.

"No, that's not it," Obi-Wan countered, joining her at the water's edge. "I think you've just grown very good at reading me."

Sabé chose to ignore the comment, truthful though it probably was. "Don't side-step the question. It'll be hours before Padmé and Gregar return from the doctor's, so talk to me."

"I received a transmission from Yoda," he explained, sitting cross-legged on a patch of moss. "He believes – as I have also come to believe – that the children must be brought up separately."

Sabé looked at him in horror, drying her hands on the hem of her tunic. "Oh no," she protested, sitting back on her heels. "Obi-Wan…that's too much. You can't ask Padmé to give up one of her children!"

"I know," he said, meeting her gaze, and she saw the touch of compassionate distress behind the words of the Jedi Master. "But I fear I must. I…I'll need you to help me persuade her."

"How? How can I _possibly_ do that?"

He didn't flinch in the face of her anger, perhaps feeling that he deserved it.

"Because it's for the best. The twins will be safer apart. Much less likely to attract Vader's attention."

Sabé slumped down on the grass, struggling to find adequate words. She knew he wouldn't lie. If there was a danger of Vader finding them, then they needed to take it seriously. She just hated the solution. It was too cruel.

"It just…" she began. "It seems… _ludicrous_ to decide their fates when they're not even born yet. It's so cold, so callous."

"I know. I don't like it either, Sabé, but we have to consider plans for the future."

Sabé shook her head but said nothing. She needed to think about everything he was saying. A spark of hope raised its head, and she considered whether it would be possible for herself and Obi-Wan to take one of the children. Then she reminded herself that there was no guarantee of Obi-Wan being with her beyond the immediate future, and the sour feeling returned to her.

"We have four months to figure it out," she said eventually. "We don't have to decide everything now."

Obi-Wan nodded in acquiescence, but his face remained troubled. Gregar had taken Padmé for her last check-up before they were due to leave the following day. The rest of her pregnancy would be spent on board the ship, and Sabé had a feeling that that was going to prove a trial for them all.

"I'll miss this place," she realised out loud, glancing around at the stream, the clearing and its border of trees. She'd found a surprisingly-peaceful piece of domesticity there, something she hadn't expected to have after losing the life she'd had on Coruscant.

"We chose a good sanctuary," Obi-Wan said in agreement. "It's been…an ideal place to heal."

He toyed with his wedding ring as he spoke, seemingly needing something to do with his hands. He hadn't worn it for the majority of their time on Coruscant, not wishing to ruffle feathers in the Temple, but it had emerged from a safe place in a pouch on his belt in order to fool the townsfolk. Sabé had endeavoured not to read too much into the fact that he'd always kept it with him, knowing that he valued the commitment he'd made to her safety. The ring was a symbol of that more than anything else.

"All change again then," Sabé said with a little huff.

"Such is life for a Jedi and an Order of Sanctuary warrior."

"True, but…sometimes it just…feels tiring, you know?"

He nodded but chose not to elaborate.

"I'm not sure I'm part of the Order anymore," Sabé mused aloud. "I haven't checked in. I've essentially fallen off the radar with Padmé. And possibly Moteé and Ellé too, if nobody informed the Temple that they're…" She trailed off.

"Regardless, I'm sure you'll always feel like an Order member as I will always feel like a Jedi," Obi-Wan said sagely. "Whether or not our Temples stand shouldn't make a difference."

"Will you insist on the twins being brought up knowing they're to be Jedi? Or will they be allowed to have normal childhoods, to forge relationships and know love?" Sabé blurted out the questions, suddenly needing the answers.

"I don't know yet," Obi-Wan told her honestly. "I'll see what Master Yoda advises."

"Every child should be loved," she muttered.

He heard her, she knew, but didn't respond.

"I admit," he said after a long pause, his words hesitant, "sometimes I wonder whether Anakin would have fallen so far if he'd been allowed to be open about his feelings. This could all have been resolved before it dragged on so long."

Sabé studied his face, surprised that he would take that viewpoint over thinking that Anakin should simply have controlled his emotions.

"Perhaps," she said, edging cautiously around the topic. She didn't dare ask him whether he thought the Jedi should have changed the rules. It seemed to hit a little too close to home. "I need to finish prepping dinner," Sabé announced, abruptly changing the topic and getting to her feet.

Obi-Wan let her go, remaining by the stream for a long while. From her place by the fire pit, Sabé watched him, and wondered what he was thinking.

* * *

Tempers were frayed when they finally broke orbit around Alderaan four months later. Even Obi-Wan had drifted perilously close to snapping at someone during their long journey. They had flown the ship from one side of the galaxy to the other, keeping constantly on the move while Padmé's bump grew to an outrageous size and her moods shifted faster than a podracer. They made semi-regular stops at various medical centres along the way, staying only long enough for essential check-ups.

Bail Organa had agreed to let them shelter on Alderaan for the last two weeks of the pregnancy, giving them use of his family's summer retreat in the mountains. It was a remote location, but easily assessable by speeder, allowing him to visit and bring supplies. There was also a medical droid on the premises, which put many minds at ease.

Padmé seemed to relax a little in the more natural setting, but Sabé knew she was anxious and uncomfortable. She was doing what she could to help, but it was all rather beyond her handmaiden capabilities.

"It wouldn't be so bad if they would just quit putting pressure on my bladder," Padmé grumbled while Sabé tried to ease the pain in her back. "I'm thinking of just moving into the fresher."

"I'll fetch you a pillow," Sabé quipped.

Padmé smiled, but it was tainted by a grimace. "Seriously, why is this so hard for humans? Shouldn't we have evolved to make it easier by now?"

"You would think."

"Be honest, Sabé," Padmé said, looking back at her over her shoulder. "Am I as round as a shaak? Because that's how I feel."

"Close."

Padmé let out a surprised laugh. "You're supposed to lie to make me feel better!"

"You just told me to be honest!" Sabé responded, laughing too.

"I changed my mind."

"Fine. No, you're not round at all. You just have a ball stuffed under your tunic."

"As I suspected."

"It's not much longer," Sabé said reassuringly. "Didn't the droid say it's a matter of days?"

Padmé nodded, leaning back against the cushions Sabé tucked behind her. "I'm going to try and nap," she announced, not sounding hopeful about her chances.

"Okay."

Precisely two days later, the party took the droid's advice and piloted a pained Padmé to the palace medical centre. Bail met them there, ensuring that they got in without being seen by too many people. Since she was only in the beginning stages of labour, it was due to be a long wait.

"This has worked out pretty well, considering," Bail commented as Gregar helped Padmé walk circuits of the room. "I'm on recess until next week."

"Glad I could work around your schedule," Padmé said with a grunt.

Bail chuckled. He knew they were grateful for his help. Padmé's discomfort-driven sarcasm didn't bother him.

"I have to get back to the queen," he told them all. "Summon me if you need anything. I'll make sure this wing is locked down, so no one will disturb you. It happens occasionally with suspected quarantines, so it's perfect cover."

"Thank you, Senator," Obi-Wan said, letting Bail escape.

It was a gruelling wait for all them. Padmé more so, of course, but for Sabé and Obi-Wan, sitting in the waiting area while Gregar kept Padmé company, it dragged on for an eternity. Sabé lost count of the number of meditations, pointless word games, and philosophical chats they went through. She tried to sleep on the surprisingly-comfortable bench, but found it difficult with her mind cluttered with worries about the twins' fate once they were born.

After Padmé's labour reached some hour in the high twenties – Sabé had lost count of that too – her pained yells echoed out to them. Not even the best pain relief in the galaxy could take it all away, but Sabé was comforted that her friend's cries sounded more determined than agonised. Still, it was difficult to listen to, and she determinedly started shoving the furniture against the walls, demanding that Obi-Wan spar with her to release some pent-up energy. They were both a little bruised and worn-out when a weary Gregar appeared, a tired grin on his face.

"They're here," he announced, and Sabé noted that one of his hands was redder than the other, bearing the crescent marks of Padmé's nails. "A boy and a girl."

Sabé exchanged a smile with Obi-Wan, and they followed Gregar back to Padmé's room. The droids had cleaned her up and wrapped the twins in soft white blankets, but she looked exhausted. Beaming, but exhausted.

Sabé rushed to her bedside and leaned over to give her a gentle hug. She turned her attention to the two tiny bundles tucked in beside her. They were red-faced and wrinkled, little faces scrunched up at the inconvenience of being forced into the world. They each sported a light crop of feathery hair, one dark, one sandy.

"Which is which?" she asked.

Padmé ran light fingertips over the sandy head. "This is Luke." Then over the dark. "And this is Leia."

Sabé grinned, bending a little to whisper, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm your…family handmaiden, I guess."

"Don't listen to crazy Aunt Sabé," Padmé said to the new arrivals. "She's family."

Sabé smiled, remembering with a pang the little boy that she truly was aunt to, that she might never see again.

"They're beautiful, Padmé," Obi-Wan said warmly.

"Thank you."

Gregar bent to kiss Padmé's forehead, and she leaned into him wearily. "You've done amazingly," he told her softly. "We'll let you get some rest."

Padmé looked torn as he picked up Luke, preparing to take him to the crib in the next room, but she nodded, yawning. Sabé gently scooped up Leia, shifting the warm bundle so that her head was properly supported.

"We won't be far," she assured her. "Do you need a hand getting settled?"

"Yes, please."

Sabé handed Leia to Obi-Wan, then helped Padmé shift further down in her bed, lowering the headrest so that she could lie down.

"Sleep well. You've earned it."

"I feel it," Padmé said, making her laugh.

Sabé retreated, finding the men settling the twins into a single crib. After so many months of being close in the womb, they didn't want to distress them by moving them to separate beds.

"…light presence," Obi-Wan was saying, seemingly in answer to a question of Gregar's. "I have no doubt that any Force sensitive on the planet could sense them."

"So it has to be, then?" Gregar said, shoulders slumped. Sabé had never heard him sound so defeated. "They have to be separated?"

"I'm afraid so. I wish it could be otherwise, my friend."

"Not so soon," Sabé cut in. "Obi-Wan…they're less than two hours old!"

"It makes no difference, Sabé, I'm sorry. We have a duty to keep them safe."

She wasn't insensitive to the sorrow in his face, but she felt too angry at the situation to let him off easily.

"How can we ask Padmé to choose between them? It's an impossible choice."

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, looking down at the sleeping figures, and Sabé's heart went cold.

"That's not all, is it?" she surmised. "What else?"

He met her gaze briefly, then made a gesture towards the door. "Let's talk in the waiting room, let the twins sleep."

Sabé exchanged a worried glance with Gregar before doing as he suggested. Gregar's expression was hard, and she realised that he already knew what she was missing.

"Yoda and I are safest if we're separated," Obi-Wan began, his voice still low for the sake of Padmé's door nearby. "The same is true of Padmé and her children."

Grasping what he was saying, her gaze snapped to his, eyes blazing. "No. No, that's too much. She already lost so much!"

"It has to be this way," Obi-Wan tried to explain.

"Because the Force wills it?" she asked him sharply.

"Because we can't trust Vader," he told her. "If he finds Padmé, he'll kill her. If he knows about the twins, he'll take them, and Palpatine will mould them into killers. Two powerful Sith apprentices that he can influence from the very beginning. We can't let that happen."

The idea was horrifying, and deep down, logically, she knew he spoke sense, but it felt like a betrayal to even consider persuading Padmé to part with both of her babies.

"Isn't there another way?" she asked, almost pleading with him. " _Any_ other way?"

He shook his head grimly.

"Gregar," Sabé tried, turning to her friend. "Surely you can't agree with this."

"I don't. But I think it's the only way they can be safe." He stepped closer to her, and she saw the tear marks down his cheek. "We swore an oath to keep her from harm," he reminded her. "By extension, that means the twins too. Gods know, I already love them as if they were my own, but if I have to send them away to make sure they can grow up safe, then…I will."

The admission looked physically painful for him to speak, and Sabé pulled him into a hug. His emotions had been tugged every which way with the revelation of Padmé's pregnancy, and she knew he had to be hurting more than she was.

"How do we tell her?" Sabé asked, hearing her own voice come out tiny and overcome.

Neither one of them had an answer for her.


	33. Partings

**Chapter Thirty-Three – Partings.**

Padmé reacted in the only way she could, being who she was. She sobbed and protested, but upon realising the logic behind Obi-Wan's arguments, she agreed with him. In hindsight, Sabé wasn't surprised. Padmé had always been willing to sacrifice for who and what she loved, and she knew her friend would never love anything as much as her children.

The discussion soon turned to the matter of where to send the twins, and Padmé participated in it with a strong voice, despite the steady trickle of tears that she seemed unable to staunch.

"Bail, would it be possible for one of them to remain here?" she asked. "I know they'd be safe on a world ruled by Breha, if you could find a suitable family."

Bail nodded, all at once looking a touch sheepish. "Actually, I wondered…if perhaps _we_ could take Leia. As you know, Breha is unable to have children, and we've been considering adopting a baby girl to be her heir. She would be well loved. We've wanted nothing more for a number of years now."

Padmé somehow managed to smile at him, nodding. "I'd be honoured."

"We won't lie to her," Bail assured her, reaching out and lightly gripping her arm. "We'll tell her the truth about her parentage as soon as she's old enough to understand."

"Not the whole truth," Padmé said at once. "Just…I don't want her to know about Anakin, just in case…"

"The truth about Vader becomes known?" Bail guessed, and Padmé nodded. "Of course."

It still felt strange to Sabé to be discussing the notion of Anakin's fatherhood so openly, albeit in a very select group. Padmé's marriage had been a secret for so long.

"What about Luke?" Gregar asked.

"Master Yoda suggested taking him to the Lars family on Tatooine," Obi-Wan spoke up. "Anakin once spoke of his step-brother, Owen, so Luke would be with his uncle."

"That seems risky," Sabé commented. "Sending him to the planet Anakin grew up on? To stay with his family, no less?"

"With the bad memories associated with his slavery and his mother's death there, Vader is unlikely to return," Obi-Wan said. "If he planned vengeance on the planet, he would have acted on it already. Vader has other priorities now."

"I met Owen, and his girlfriend, Beru," Padmé said. "They were good people. I'd trust them with Luke. Although it won't be easy, growing up in an environment like that."

"I'm sorry I can't offer them both protection," Bail said with a shrug. "But it would defeat the purpose."

"You've done more than enough, Bail. I'm forever in your debt."

"Luke can keep Anakin's name, if you want him to," Obi-Wan said, drawing her attention. "When I heard about Qui-Gon's interest in him, I ran a search on Anakin. There were at least twenty other Skywalkers within a forty klick radius of Mos Espa alone. His name shouldn't raise suspicion."

Padmé toyed with the idea, chewing her bottom lip. Finally she nodded. "It would be less suspicious than a Nabooian name," she stated.

"And what of you?" Bail asked. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know," Padmé answered him truthfully, looking lost. Her pregnancy had been all she'd had to focus on in recent months. "Do any of those seeds you're planting have jobs that we could do?"

Bail's face turned thoughtful at the mention of the fledgling protest group he and Mon Mothma were forming. "Not at the moment," he admitted. "But perhaps in a few years."

"I want to be involved," Padmé declared firmly.

"I'll make sure you are," Bail promised her. "In the meantime, stay safe. The rebellion will need you."

Gregar cleared his throat. "I thought maybe we could go back to Takodana for a while until we figure out the rest. It worked there."

Padmé nodded. "I suppose it will be nice to go somewhere somewhat familiar." She swallowed hard, then looked across the table. "Obi-Wan, I need to ask you something I have no right to ask."

His eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but his voice was calm. "Go ahead."

"Will you take Luke to Owen and Beru? Will you settle somewhere nearby and watch over him? I'd feel better about giving him up if I knew he had a friend keeping him safe. And…if you need to train him as a Jedi…well…I doubt I'd be able to stop you." Her voice turned a little bitter, but she sounded resigned. "Just…gods, _please_ don't let him become another Vader." Her tears, which had momentarily stopped, started once again, and her face crumpled for a split second before she regained control. "Let him love openly if he wants to. Please."

Obi-Wan accepted her words with the utmost gravity, bowing his head to her formally. "I'll do it. I'll watch over him."

Sabé felt her heart clench, knowing that the farewell they'd always known was coming was finally upon them. She kept her posture rigid, knowing it was essential to her control. She'd done the same portraying the Queen of Naboo in the face of Federation battle droids.

Padmé gave a formal nod in return, before turning her attention to Sabé. "Sabé, I know I have the authority to order you anywhere, but…this I'm going to ask. Will you stay here and be handmaiden to Leia? She'll need you, and I know you'll keep her safe."

Sabé looked at her in shock, holding herself still. Padmé wanted her to stay behind, alone. Not friendless, but without those she considered her family.

 _No, she_ asked _you. That means you can say 'no'._

But in the end, there was only ever one answer she could give.

"I will."

Padmé peered at her anxiously, as if trying to determine whether Sabé was replying out of duty. Of course she was. Her duty didn't end just because Padmé had _asked_ rather than ordered.

"Is that all right with you, Bail?" Padmé asked, almost as an afterthought, which was very nearly laughable.

"Of course. The royal household will be lucky to have you, Sabé." He accepted the extra staff member and outgoing wage with the utmost grace, although Sabé supposed he would have had to hire personnel for the new princess anyway.

She felt Obi-Wan's gaze on her, but purposely avoided it. She didn't think she could handle looking at him at that moment.

"We can offer you a small ship, Master Kenobi," Bail was saying. "For whenever you want to leave."

"Thank you."

A pause followed, and Sabé knew they were all waiting for Padmé's say-so.

"You should…leave as soon as possible," Padmé said, faltering only a little over the words. "The time it takes to organise a ship should…give me time to say goodbye. Then Gregar and I will leave too."

"Are you well enough for that?" Gregar asked.

"I'll be fine," she told him, turning to him and saying earnestly, "I need to go now. While I'm still resolved to do it. If I wait…"

She trailed off, but he nodded, taking her hand. "I understand."

Sabé stared at the table top, drawing her courage around her. It was all happening so fast.

"I'll go fetch the ship myself," Bail said, rising to his feet. "Best not to get others involved."

Padmé sent him a quick nod of thanks, and he departed. Sabé stumbled to her feet too, drawing all eyes.

"Excuse me for a second," she mumbled, leaving the room.

They were still hiding out in the med centre, and she turned into an unoccupied patient room, letting the door slide closed behind her. She wiped her tears on her sleeve, knowing that if she didn't get them under control right away, she never would.

It was all so unfair. Padmé separated from her children. The twins separated from each other. Sabé separated from her friends. Separated from her husband… The only bright spot was that Padmé had Gregar, although with the loss of the babies, Sabé wasn't sure how true happiness was possible for them.

 _At least Luke has the best guardian he could ask for. And I will try to be the same for Leia._

It wouldn't be forever, but it would be years. Perhaps even decades. Long enough that it _felt_ like forever from where she was standing. Her fleeting dreams of a different future with Obi-Wan dissolved like smoke, leaving her feeling foolish for entertaining them in the first place. They had always been a long shot.

"Sabé?"

The familiar, beloved voice reached her through the closed door, and she debated whether to answer.

"Yes?"

The door slid aside, and Obi-Wan stepped into the room. Sabé eyed him warily, wondering whether her control would last.

"Are you all right?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but fell short. It seemed like such a ridiculous question. She wasn't sure what face she ended up pulling, shrugging helplessly. His brow was furrowed, and he stepped closer, hands on her shoulders.

Sabé resisted almost frantically, pushing at his chest. "No, no! Don't!"

But he ignored her protests, drawing her close, his arms tight around her. As she'd feared, her walls crumbled and she wept in earnest, clinging to him.

"It's all right," he told her softly. "Let it out."

"You weren't…supposed to be…nice to me," Sabé said between sobs, hitting him half-heartedly on the back.

"As if I could be anything else," he said with warmth and a touch of sadness.

He held her until her tears ran dry and her throat was raw, saying nothing, just offering support. Sabé knew she'd never get another opportunity to tell him how she felt, but she also knew that she wouldn't take it. It was pointless, and he knew anyway. Whatever tiny, fleeting chance they might have had, it was gone now.

The sound of footsteps outside heralded Bail's return, and Sabé reluctantly pulled back.

"Be honest," she said, aiming for a light tone, "is it horribly red and blotchy?"

Obi-Wan offered her the ghost of a smile, studying her face. "No one will blame you."

"So that's a yes then. Wonderful."

"Actually, I'd say you cry with dignity."

She almost smiled at that. "Well, thank you."

He held her gaze, blue eyes full of so much more than he'd ever said or acted on. It was his gift to her, she realised, letting her see it.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be, I suppose."

As expected, no one said a word about her red-rimmed eyes, and Padmé and Gregar looked much the same anyway. In the time it had taken for Bail to get the ship, Padmé had packed a bag of essentials for Luke for Obi-Wan to take with him. She was holding her son close, her head bent as she whispered a few private parting words to him.

The party ventured out to the docks, hidden under the cover of darkness. Gregar shifted Leia to one arm in order to shake Obi-Wan's hand.

"Take care of yourself," Gregar said. "And him."

"I will. You too."

Sabé took Luke while Padmé hugged Obi-Wan, murmuring thanks and apologies as she did so.

"Don't apologise," Obi-Wan told her. "It's my honour to watch over Anakin's son. Perhaps I can atone for the mistakes I made with his father."

Padmé nodded, trying to smile. She took Luke back while Obi-Wan shook hands with Bail. When it was her turn, Sabé tried to make her parting hug brief, mindful of the eyes on them, but it was difficult to let him go.

"Be safe," she said in his ear.

"You too."

"Thank you for everything." The words didn't seem adequate to sum up their time together.

His grip tightened a fraction. "Likewise."

They drew apart, and Sabé attempted to summon a smile. He kissed her forehead, hand warm on her shoulder, then stepped back. Moving over to Padmé, he held out his arms for Luke. She paused only to press her lips to her son's downy head before handing him over. Obi-Wan exchanged some quiet words of reassurance with her before walking away.

Padmé took Leia from Gregar, no doubt aware that the next parting was only moments away. They watched Obi-Wan cross the landing platform to the smaller of the two ships, disappearing into the darkness. He was illuminated again at the top of the ship's entry ramp, and he seemed to study their faces before offering a small smile and hitting the switch for the ramp. As it closed, slowly cutting him off from view, Sabé kept her gaze on his, unable to tell from the distance if he kept his on her.

Within moments the ship was airborne, the light from its engines growing smaller as it headed away, and then Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker were gone.

Sabé drifted to her friends, and Gregar put an arm around her shoulders, pulling Padmé and Leia closer on his other side while Bail stood politely by.

"I'm sorry, Sabé," Padmé was saying through tears. "I'm so sorry."

Sabé couldn't blame her, not after everything she was losing too. And besides, nobody had wanted a different future for Sabé more than Padmé.

"It's not your fault," Sabé told her. "None of this is your fault."

They allowed themselves a moment of closeness, to be that group of friends who had roamed the halls of Theed Palace once more. Then Leia wailed, perhaps sensing the growing distance between herself and her brother.

"Oh, sweetheart, no," Padmé said, gently bouncing her in her arms. "It will be okay, it will."

"We'd better go," Gregar told her softly.

 _Before this gets any harder,_ Sabé heard, unspoken.

"I know," Padmé agreed, although she did not look ready.

She stepped back, and Sabé hugged Gregar tightly, wishing fiercely that there had been a solution that didn't involve so many farewells.

"Take care of each other," Sabé advised him.

"We will. You be safe."

He kissed the top of her head, a much quicker, more casual kiss than Obi-Wan's, (not that she was going to read into it), and let her go. Padmé handed Leia to Bail, who admirably tried hard not to look utterly thrilled at the prospect of holding his new daughter. She wrapped Sabé in a hug, and they held each other for a long moment without saying anything.

"Thank you, Sabé," Padmé whispered, and they both knew how much weight the words carried, and how much they covered.

"I'll miss you," Sabé said. "Both of you. But I'm glad you get to be together."

She felt Padmé nod, but she said nothing further, tactfully avoiding topics that reminded Sabé that she herself hadn't been so fortunate in that aspect.

Finally, they drew apart, and made a poor attempt at exchanging smiles. Padmé walked back to Bail, caressing Leia's tiny head.

"I think you'll be good for each other," she said, and then had to swiftly turn as her emotions hit her afresh.

Gregar shouldered the single bag of luggage they'd amassed, tucking an arm around her as they began the walk to their ship. Sabé watched them go, her throat aching acutely as she fought not to cry again. It wasn't long before she was watching them follow Obi-Wan's path upwards, a second set of engines growing dimmer and winking out.

Sabé remained gazing at the sky as she reached for her professional composure, knowing she was standing in the presence of someone who was not yet a friend, even if they were an ally.

"Let me show you to your quarters, Lady Sabé," Bail spoke up, his tone kind.

"Thank you, Senator."

"I had time to consult with the queen about Leia," he said conversationally as they walked, "but not about you, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry if I'm causing you inconvenience."

"On the contrary, she'll be thrilled to have a former member of the Naboo court here." He sent her a quick sidelong smile as they negotiated some stairs up to one of the palace's many balconies. "I know little about the full role of handmaidens, but I'm aware that there's more to you than meets the eye."

"I'd be happy to tell you more if you're interested," Sabé offered politely.

"I'm sure Breha will be," he said, almost clipping a doorframe with his shoulder, so loath he was to look up from Leia, who seemed to have fallen into an uneasy sleep. "I'll arrange a meeting for tomorrow morning, if that suits you."

"It does."

They walked corridors in silence, and Sabé tried to look for distinguishing features in each passageway. Eventually, Bail halted them outside a door that was thankfully numbered.

"Here you are. The princess will be housed in the suite down the hall as soon as she's old enough. Until that time…I think the queen and I would like her closer."

"I understand." And she did. Although she had no personal experience, she knew it was the privilege and duty of new parents to have to get up to their child's every cry during the night.

"Get some rest," he ordered her benignly. "We'll discuss everything in the morning. If you need anything, call a droid from the console."

Sabé nodded, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you. Good night." She reached for Leia's little hand, brushing it gently. "Good night, Princess," she added.

Bail smiled, for the first time holding none of his joy back, and Sabé found it completely heart-warming. It didn't ease the sting of knowing how much Padmé was suffering, but it was gratifying to know that her daughter would be so well loved.

"I'd best take her to meet…" He trailed off, looking uncharacteristically awkward.

"Her new mother," Sabé finished for him, managing a small quirk of her lips. "It's all right, you can say it."

He smiled, shaking his head. "This is a difficult situation for us all," he acknowledged.

"But it will get easier," she assured him. "I'll see you in the morning, Senator."

"Yes. Sleep well."

Sabé tapped the panel on the wall and the door to her new home slid open. She stepped through, letting the door close behind her, and looked around. It was a modest but comfortable suite comprised of bedroom, fresher, and an open-plan kitchen, dining and lounge area. If the Alderaanian court was anything like the Nabooian one, she was sure there would be protocols for where a princess's handmaiden should eat, but it was nice to know that she could be independent if she wanted.

The rooms were decorated in light tones, fixtures meeting a pleasing compromise of art and function. A fair-sized closet in the bedroom stood woefully empty, and Sabé wondered if she'd be given a clothing allowance. All she had was the handful of credits she'd been carrying in a belt pouch since leaving the ship, and her sword. Her current clothes were fine for travelling, but she doubted the neutral-toned tunic, leggings, and boots were good enough for the court.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. She remained still for a long while, trying to decide if she was going to cry again, turning her wedding ring over and over on her finger. Everything had changed, and she hated it. But she had a duty. She would perform it to the best of her ability.

* * *

On the day that marked a whole year since Obi-Wan had made a home on Tatooine, he awoke early to meditate while the suns rose. From his hut's elevated position, he could see the Lars homestead on a clear day. Owen had made it perfectly clear that he would raise Luke on the condition that the boy not be influenced by the Jedi. For Luke's safety, Obi-Wan had determined to stay away, but remained close enough to fulfil his promise to Padmé. Since he was not on Lars land, Owen could do nothing but grumble at his proximity.

He'd been able to communicate sporadically with Master Yoda, although they did not risk it often. Yoda had been unconcerned about Luke missing out on early training, perhaps wondering, as Obi-Wan was, whether it was wise to give Anakin's child access to the same power that had been corrupted by Darth Vader. Obi-Wan didn't think it would be a mistake, but neither did he believe that following the exact footsteps of the Jedi Order was the right course. He trusted that the Force would show him if Luke was on the wrong path. Leia too, although he doubted Bail Organa would object if he offered to train her. When Luke was older, well-established as safe, perhaps there would be an opportunity to visit Leia.

 _Just Leia?_

He ignored the snarky little inner voice, stepping out of his hut and settling cross-legged on the sand. Anakin's lightsaber lay hidden in the bottom of a storage trunk, and Obi-Wan had sensed that it would be wielded again, even if he had no clear vision of those who would do so. Indistinct images of a sandy-headed young man and a brunette young woman made him think that either or both of the twins would take up the heirloom at some point.

The rising suns warmed his face as he sat there, concentrating on his breathing, centring himself. Meditation had always been a big part of his life, there to heal or calm him whenever he needed the extra help, but on Tatooine it was essential. Jedi he may be, but he was also human, and living in such isolation was difficult for him. He'd grown up in the Temple, surrounded by his peers, had lived alongside both Master and Padawan, and then with Sabé… Being alone was jarring. More jarring than he cared to admit.

 _You miss her._

The statement wasn't his this time, but rather the faint presence that he was still learning to communicate smoothly with.

"I'll adapt," he spoke aloud.

He sensed amusement from Qui-Gon's spirit, although he did not speak further. It was still new, knowing that his long-dead Master had found a way to live on beyond death. He'd been surprised when Yoda had told him about his additional training, more so when he'd discovered what it was. He was still learning how best to communicate, and Qui-Gon seemed to be doing the same from the other side. In recent weeks they were able to exchange a full conversation provided that Obi-Wan kept a clear mind.

Qui-Gon had had much wisdom to impart, although comments on his former Padawan's rule-bending marriage were new. Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure that he welcomed them, but Qui-Gon had always had a rather impish sense of humour, not to mention enough rule breaking to make Obi-Wan look positively straitlaced. He knew Qui-Gon had once fallen in love with a fellow Jedi, and had done so unapologetically. The two had even pledged themselves to each other, but then she had died, and Qui-Gon's grief had led him to a dark place for a time.

Most Jedi were tempted by the darkness at some point or other, but experiences varied wildly. Obi-Wan recalled the struggle for control when Darth Maul had cut Qui-Gon down, and then again when he'd done the same to Satine. Sabé had helped him bear it then, had reminded him of who and what he was. It had been easier to resist the descent with her presence beside him.

 _I do miss her_ , he acknowledged silently. _But she's safe._

It was a constant source of comfort for him. He hadn't heard from her, of course, but he knew she'd be all right under Bail's protection. He wished he could say the same for Padmé and Gregar. He'd heard nothing from them either, and had no idea as to their whereabouts.

 _They're safe,_ Qui-Gon informed him.

"Are you doing reconnaissance now?" Obi-Wan asked him teasingly.

 _When I need to._

Softening his tone, Obi-Wan added, "Thank you, Master. I'm glad they're okay."

He opened his eyes to watch the rest of the binary sunrise, making the most of the fleeting sense of peace.

* * *

In Princess Leia's early years, her loyal handmaiden played a role more similar to that of nanny and governess than aide and bodyguard, although she did not stop being either. Fortunately, Bail and Queen Breha were very hands-on parents, and did not leave all the messy parts of parenting to other people. Sabé was in the unique position to watch in admiration as Breha bathed and changed her daughter after an accident, then washed her hands thoroughly, and attended a meeting with her council of governors with the scent of baby shampoo still clinging to her clothes. Leia was adored, but not spoiled, and Sabé had to concede that Padmé could not have chosen better guardians.

For safety's sake, she had once more taken up her birth name of Syrena Simmonite, which felt strange after so many years as Sabé. She even managed to write to her sister, although she had to renounce Padmé in her letter on the off-chance that it got intercepted. Idriel knew her well enough to surmise that she did so for her own safety, and had made no mention of it in her reply. Such a lack of interest in gossip was unlike Idriel, and so Sabé knew it was a purposeful omission. She didn't expect to ever see her family again, but at least she knew they were well, and vice versa.

She still wore her wedding ring, but refused to answer questions, cultivating an assumption throughout the palace that she was a widow. She let the lie stand. She grew friendly with Bail and Breha, although she didn't feel she could count them as close friends. Bail was often away on Coruscant, and Breha seemed to see some similarities in their circumstances, which always made Sabé curious about what Bail had told her.

At the age of two, Leia received what would probably be the first in a long line of personal tutors, a young man called Asher who specialised in art and developing pre-school skills. Asher was rather gangly but constantly elegant, and was one of the few men that Sabé felt deserved the word 'beautiful'. His chiselled features, caramel skin, and long, glossy black hair had earned him a dedicated following of admirers, although Sabé hadn't yet seen him show an interest in any of them. She spent a lot of time with him by necessity, and was surprised to find herself with another friend. He was funny to be around, and she appreciated his dedication to his work. Kids, in Asher's opinion, were usually worth talking to more than adults. Sabé understood what he meant, constantly amused by what Leia came out with.

"Interesting how she picks that one up first every time," Asher remarked one day.

The two of them were sitting on the floor, watching Leia playing with a small pile of action figures. The princess had reached for her favourite one, a heroic figure in robes not unlike a Jedi's, and was waving it around, humming to herself.

Sabé shrugged. "She likes his cloak, I suppose," she said nonchalantly.

"Gen-ral!" Leia declared happily, showing them the toy.

Sabé raised her eyebrows, wondering when the toddling princess had picked up a military term. "Is he a General?" she asked.

"Yes," Leia said firmly, moving the figure up and down as if he was undertaking some very enthusiastic jumping.

"You're a bit young for career options, Your Highness," Asher said, amused. "Besides, this is a pacifist planet."

"Pass-fiss," Leia parroted.

"Something like that."

"Gods help us, she'll be addressing the Senate in no time," Sabé commented, although she was smiling.

Asher smirked at her. "Youngest senator ever?"

"You never know."

"Me," Leia put in, "setter."

"Senator?" Sabé guessed.

"Yes."

"I think you're bound for Queendom, my girl."

"No, don't wanna."

Asher laughed. "I love it when they get argumentative. You'll need that if you're a senator, Your Highness."

Leia stared at him with her large, solemn brown eyes. "Yes," she said quietly.

Sabé studied her, pondering how much she understood. More than she could adequately communicate, that was for sure. But she was learning, and learning fast, and Sabé felt a rush of pride for her best friend's child. She wondered, as she often did, how well Luke was faring half a galaxy away. She wondered how Obi-Wan was doing, and then made herself stop.

She had lived on Alderaan for over two years, and the ache of his absence hadn't entirely gone away. She'd just learned how to live with it. She missed Padmé and Gregar too, of course, but Obi-Wan more so, and she knew exactly why. She mourned the loss of the chance they'd never had.

Leia approached her, her little face thoughtful. "Here," she said, depositing the toy in Sabé's lap before returning to the others.

Asher looked at her, surprised. "You've been blessed," he said.

"Seems so."

"I wonder why she did that."

Sabé shrugged. "Two-year-old logic," she said dismissively, although she thought she knew why. Leia's Force sensitivity had picked up on her sadness, and she was trying to make it better in the only way she knew how.

 _Going to have to keep an eye on that_ , she thought to herself. _We can't let her give herself away._

She made a mental note to talk to Breha, although she wasn't sure what they could do. Leia was already an independent soul. No doubt she'd do whatever she wanted.

* * *

 **A/N:** There are a lot of time jumps in the next few chapters, but I'll make sure to always specify how much time has passed or how old the twins are to keep track. I'm sorry I had to split our favourite couple apart, but fear not! It won't be that way forever :)


	34. Knight of Old Stories

**A/N:** Sorry about the delay, I had other things to take care of.

If this first part sounds familiar, that's because it is. We've finally circled back around to the prologue!

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Four – Knight of Old Stories.**

"Listen carefully now. I have something important to say. When you're older there will be people who will tell you that the Jedi were not to be trusted, that they were warmongers, that Emperor Palpatine saved the galaxy from their greed and control. They will tell you that Darth Vader and his Inquisitors hunted them down for the good of all of us. But they're wrong. There is a truth behind all of this that they want us to deny and forget: that the Jedi were guardians, peacekeepers, who fought out of necessity in an attempt to save lives and preserve freedom." Sabé paused in her narration, finding it harder to relay than she'd thought. Her one-person audience stared at her in open expectation, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Your father wants me to tell you this, because he knows that you can keep the secret. He knows that it's important for you to hear the truth, because one day it could save your life."

The six-year-old princess blinked her wide, dark eyes, her expression solemn and rapt. She was too young to accept the weight of truth and lies, but Sabé had no doubt that she would keep it hidden. She was mature for her age. Too mature. Sabé worried that she was growing up too fast, accepting burdens too early.

"How could it save my life?" Leia asked. "A Jedi couldn't help me if they're all dead."

"There...there is still one," Sabé told her, speaking aloud what she'd sworn never to reveal, the words sticking in her throat. It felt like disloyalty. She forced herself to say the rest, because she knew how important it was, how important the girl in front of her was. "There is someone you can go to if all other hope has gone. He'll help you if he can."

"A Jedi?" Leia whispered, her tone reverent.

Sabé nodded. "He fought in the Clone Wars, trying to protect the Republic your father believed in. When the betrayal happened he barely escaped with his life. After everything he gave to the galaxy..." She left the sentence unfinished, unable to find the words. "He saved lives, over and over."

"How do you know that?" Leia asked, a serious little frown creasing her brow.

Sabé resisted a gentle smile at the earnest expression. "Because he also saved mine, more than once. He was a great warrior, yet a wise and skilful negotiator. He's...my definition of a good man."

Leia's face was an open book, awestruck and fascinated at the picture Sabé was weaving. She had planned it that way. She needed the story to stay with the princess long after it was told.

"He is...the best man I've ever known," she added, unable to fully keep the touch of sadness from her tone.

"Who is he?" Leia asked her with undisguised interest.

Sabé couldn't hold back the tiny smile that his name invoked, filled with memories of everything that made him who he was: a man she would love forever.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

* * *

In the wake of Sabé's storytelling, all Leia wanted to hear about were the Jedi, and Obi-Wan in particular. She was smart enough to only talk about it with Sabé or her parents, and had even read some of Palpatine's statements about the Jedi, despite them being long-winded and full of words she didn't understand.

Bail and Breha had taken her attitude as their cue to tell her the truth about her parentage. Sabé had been present for that meeting, and all three of them had been surprised when Leia listened to the news and calmly said, "I thought so."

"You…thought so?" Breha had repeated, stunned.

Leia had simply shrugged. "Well, I don't look like either of you. I look more like Syrena, but I don't think she's my mother."

"No," Sabé had managed to say. "No, I'm not." She'd been dyeing her hair ashy blonde for years so as to avoid any speculation that she was Leia's real mother. So far it had worked.

They had proceeded to tell Leia about Padmé, whereupon she once again ventured off to do some reading on her own. When it occurred to her to ask about her father, she was told only that he was a Jedi, news which excited her greatly.

The next time Bail was able to return home coincided with Breha's birthday, and Sabé collaborated with the chief of security about how best to secure an outdoor party. Breha specifically wanted to celebrate in the palace gardens, which were grand and sprawling; a potential nightmare for the security staff. Alderaan was a peaceful world, but they were not naïve, taking sensible security measures where needed.

Leia was gifted a new dress for the occasion, although she didn't seem to care either way. Sabé was constantly amused by the stark contrast to Padmé, but she kept it to herself. Leia's aunts were already on her case about her appearance and deportment, and Sabé didn't want to add to it. She had no concerns about Leia growing up with sub-par etiquette training, not with Bail's sisters around.

She brushed the princess's dark hair, securing it in two small buns above her ears.

"It hurts," Leia complained as Sabé added extra pins.

"Beauty is pain," Sabé quipped, a phrase she'd never bought into.

"I don't want to be beautiful."

"Not sure you're going to have much of a choice, Your Highness." Sabé rested her hands on Leia's shoulders and met her gaze in the mirror. "Now listen carefully, I'm going to tell you a secret."

"What?"

"Hair can be a powerful statement."

Leia rolled her eyes, and Sabé stifled a laugh.

"No, I'm serious, and your aunts will like this. With your hair styled the right way you can tell a visitor your status without words, you can state when you're ready for an argument, when you're willing to be friends. And the best part, you can hide all sorts of useful items in the right hairdo. I once worked for a queen who concealed a comlink in her hair and gathered incriminating evidence against her enemies. I've known a bounty hunter who was able to sneak a lock pick into a prison." She'd only read about the last one, but it served its purpose, as Leia's surly face looked suddenly intrigued.

"I wouldn't have thought of that," she said.

"That's why you have a handmaiden, Your Highness," Sabé said, quirking her eyebrows and smiling.

"What am I saying with this hair?" Leia asked.

"You're declaring that you're a member of the Royal House of Alderaan. Now shall we go? We don't want to be late."

Leia gave herself a cursory glance and nodded. "Okay."

Sabé's blue-grey gown was plain next to Leia's cerulean one, and she walked half a step behind her as they headed down the steps to the gardens. Leia sought Breha out, handing over the gift box that she'd wrapped herself. Sabé smiled at the scene, sweeping her eyes around the borders of the garden. She'd lost none of her Order habits, and she didn't intend to get sloppy, whether the Order would still accept her or not. There was rarely anything to find, however. An occasional harassing HoloNet reporter or an opportunistic thief at most.

Leia practiced her formal greetings on her mother's guests, earning herself nods of approval from her aunts, managed to persuade both her parents to dance with her, and got into a heated argument with an older boy about the fruit on the buffet. The argument ended with Leia throwing a piece of the fruit in the boy's face, sending him running off into the crowd.

Sabé curbed her initial instinct to laugh, and instead pasted on a strict expression. "Leia Organa, that is not proper behaviour."

"He deserved it," Leia said sulkily. "He was being stupid."

"We can't punish people for being stupid."

Leia sighed, her face turning thoughtful. "No. I suppose they can't help it. They probably don't even realise they're stupid."

Sabé bit her tongue. "Well, that wasn't exactly what I was trying to say. My point is…"

"Position of authority, people beneath me, yadda, yadda."

Sabé fixed her with a Look.

Leia sighed again, but straightened her posture. "I'm sorry, I'll work on my behaviour."

The boy returned, darting out of the crowd long enough to throw a clump of mud that hit Leia in the leg before vanishing. Leia made a sharp noise of fury, and Sabé quickly seized the back of her dress before she could go sprinting off.

"No! No, no. We don't go running after people."

"But…"

"I know what he did, but you're a princess, you must rise above it."

Leia silently fumed, but her body relaxed, and Sabé felt it was safe to let her go. "I need to sponge my dress," she snapped.

Although it was dark, the garden was well-illuminated by coloured lanterns, and the muddy mark was easily visible.

Sabé eyed it and nodded. "Yes. Come on, let's get you to the fresher."

They walked back towards the palace, bypassing the stairs and heading around the building to where Sabé knew a side entrance would be unlocked.

"When are you going to teach me self-defence?" Leia asked out of the blue, and Sabé surmised she was thinking up ways to get her own back on the mud-thrower.

"When your parents say so, and not before."

"Ugh, Syr-eeeeena," Leia grumbled, drawing out the syllables of her name. "Please."

"No. Sorry."

The princess huffed, and Sabé chuckled. They took a side path that led through the secluded herb gardens, and Sabé felt the smile slip from her face, her instincts kicking in as she immediately spotted what was wrong. There was not a single guard to be seen. Not wishing to alarm Leia, she lightly placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and kept walking, eyes darting around as she scouted the area. They were alone, and that wasn't good.

"Syrena?" Leia hissed, a note of concern in her whispered tone.

"Mm?"

"There are three men following us."

"Don't panic, Leia. Keep walking. I won't let them hurt you."

"I'm not panicking," she protested, but her eyes were wide with fear.

Sabé tensed as they approached the place where the path narrowed, seeing it as a strategic place for an ambush. Sure enough, a fourth man appeared, rounding the tall hedges ahead of them. Sabé abruptly halted, holding an arm in front of Leia.

"Give us the princess, lady," the man said, "and we won't hurt you."

"She's not going anywhere," Sabé told them, shooting a glance over her shoulder where the others stood. They were a strange mishmash of men. Clearly pirates or bounty hunters hoping to claim a ransom.

"Yeah," the first man said, his tone cocky, "she is."

They all carried staff-like weapons, apparently having known better than to try and get blasters anywhere near the palace grounds. The first man lunged at her, swinging the stick. Leia ducked without being told, and Sabé grabbed the staff in both hands, feeling the impact sting her palms. She kicked the man in the stomach, wrenching the staff out of his grasp and bringing it round in a fierce arc, knocking him unconscious.

The other three all charged her at once, and she managed to yell a strangled, "Run, Leia!" before she took up a defensive stance. Leia darted away, a flash of blue fabric in her peripheral vision. She blocked a blow aimed for her head, but felt one of the staffs hit her side, bruising. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she jabbed the heel of her shoe into the shin of the man behind her, and he staggered backwards. Since he was dressed as an Alderaanian guard, she jerked her head back, catching him in the nose, making him regret his lack of helmet. She kicked out backwards, sending him flying.

"Got her, dad!"

At the yell – which wouldn't be heard over the noise of the party, much to Sabé's annoyance – one of her attackers broke away. Sabé saw the boy who'd thrown the mud grappling with Leia, who was raining as many hits on him as she possibly could. Before she could see any further, however, the remaining staff-wielder took and held her attention, expertly spinning his weapon in a series of blows that she only just managed to hold off.

The Order of Sanctuary, well aware that it would be sending its people to guard distinguished clients, made certain that every single warrior could fight in formal gowns. It wasn't easy or convenient, but it was possible, and Sabé had forgotten none of her training. The fact that she was doing well seemed to annoy her opponent, who'd probably hoped for an easy advantage.

They'd just clashed and locked staffs, glaring at each other over the top of them, when another bounty hunter entered the fray, leaping from a balcony above.

 _Oh, joy._

When he started attacking the man nearest Leia, however, Sabé wasn't sure who was more surprised; herself or her opponent. She recovered faster, pushing him back, twirling her staff and knocking his out of his hands. She swung it again, knocking him out, and looked anxiously for Leia.

The princess had pushed her mud-throwing adversary into a clump of spiky bushes, and he was hastily scrambling out, nursing a multitude of scratches and running away in the direction of the landing platforms. At the same moment the newcomer knocked his father unconscious, and all fell temporarily still.

Sabé raised her staff, aware that there was still one bounty hunter between her and her charge.

"Get back, Leia!" she yelled, moving into an offensive position.

The newcomer held up his hands. "No, no, wait, it's me!" He tugged off his helmet, throwing it on the grass. "Sabé, it's me!"

Sabé felt her jaw drop, wide-eyed as she took in the sight of a painfully familiar face. He was a little more weather-beaten than when she'd last seen him, his hair lighter, his skin tanned, but the smile that reached her through the neatly-trimmed beard was just as she remembered. She didn't think, just dropped her staff, bolted the four or five steps towards him and threw her arms around him.

As she did so, a sudden and random snippet of the past flashed before her eyes. She saw Duchess Satine doing the exact same thing when they'd rescued her from her cell on Mandalore. She remembered how he'd reacted with awkwardness, and she started to withdraw, embarrassed. But then she felt his arms tighten around her, holding her as close as was comfortable seeing as he wore borrowed armour.

She wasn't sure how long they stood clasped, only that she gradually became aware of the stare of a curious six-year-old. She pulled away, giving the princess her full attention.

"Are you hurt, Leia?"

"No. Who's that? Why did he call you Sabé?"

She sighed, sending Obi-Wan a glance, holding back a smile at his expression. "He's a friend," she said. "And Sabé is…another name I have. One I used back home on Naboo."

"Oh. Well, you'd better introduce me, then," she said solemnly.

"Why don't you do it yourself," Sabé said with an encouraging smile. "You've been practicing."

Leia straightened up, lifting her chin. "I am Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Sabé smiled. "Good."

Obi-Wan responded with a respectful bow. "It's an honour, Your Highness. I am…" He hesitated, and Sabé considered for a moment before nodding. He looked surprised, but followed her advice. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Leia's eyes grew as round as saucers. "No! Really?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Yes, really. But you mustn't tell anyone I'm here except your parents."

Leia nodded at once. "I know. We should find them before these men wake up."

"That's actually a very good idea," Sabé said.

Obi-Wan retrieved his helmet, obscuring his face once more.

Leia was watching him with speculative eyes. "Thank you for saving me," she said.

"You're very welcome, Princess, although Sabé did most of it. I just helped."

"Yes, but that's her job," Leia said, before realising that she'd said the wrong thing. "Thank you as well, Syrena."

"My pleasure," Sabé said dryly, placing a hand on Leia's shoulder as she led Obi-Wan back to the party.

People stared at the mud-spattered princess, dishevelled handmaiden, and mysterious bounty hunter, but the three didn't stop moving, weaving through guests until they found Bail and Breha.

Sabé stepped forward to discreetly report what had happened, but Leia got there first.

"I was attacked, Father!" she said brightly.

Bail met Sabé's gaze sharply. She gave the barest hint of a nod before saying dismissively, "Some boy throwing mud, look at her dress!"

"Oh dear. Let's go in and sort it out," Bail said, bending down so that Leia could hop on his back. He gestured to Breha, who excused herself from the bystanders and followed.

Neither of them asked about the presence of the bounty hunter. At the top of the stairs, Sabé stepped away to give orders to the guard there, sending her off to round up the bounty hunters and track down the boy.

The royal party entered the empty throne room, and Breha led them to her private office behind it.

"Tell us everything," she said, taking her seat and lifting Leia onto her knee. She was getting too big for that really, but Sabé understood Breha's need to keep her daughter close.

Obi-Wan removed the helmet once again, prompting pleased surprise from Bail. He courteously introduced himself to Breha, and the royal couple thanked them both for keeping Leia safe.

"How did you know?" Bail asked. "Did you have a vision?"

"No, actually it was a coincidence," Obi-Wan said. "I had already acquired the disguise, and I was rather surprised to see a group of other bounty hunters approaching the palace. I heard them discussing a ransom. I believe they simply targeted the princess because they knew you could afford to pay for her release."

Although it was not a pleasant thought, it was better than the possibility of someone finding out Leia's identity.

"I see," Breha said, her brow furrowed. "I'll need to have a discussion with the guards about this. It can't happen again."

"I agree," Bail put in.

Leia seemed to have been tired out by the excitement. She was still awake, but her eyelids were drooping.

"I'm going to put her to bed," Breha announced, standing up and setting the sleepy girl back on her feet. "You have to walk, dear heart, you're getting too heavy for me."

Leia grumbled but said nothing, holding Breha's hand and walking with her.

"Master Kenobi, you're welcome to stay as long as you like," Breha said, halting by the door. "Although I can see that it might be difficult for you to hide your identity."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Obi-Wan said with a fluid bow, not elaborating on his plans. "Good night, Princess."

"Good night," Leia mumbled.

Breha smiled, ushering her out the door.

"I can offer you a guest room," Bail spoke up, "although I need a name to assign it to."

"Don't worry about that," Sabé cut in. "It would be better not to have any records of him being here at all, even false ones. He can stay with me. If you're okay with the sofa," she added to Obi-Wan.

"I'm sure it will be more comfortable than anything on Tatooine," Obi-Wan said lightly.

Bail nodded, his diplomatic mask revealing nothing but politeness. If he thought she had ulterior motives, he did not show it in the slightest.

"May I be excused from dinner?" Sabé asked.

"Of course. I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on."

Sabé reflected on Bail's assumption that Obi-Wan was there to see her rather than himself or Breha, an assumption that Obi-Wan himself did not counter. She wondered what news he'd brought. Unless he'd simply come to see Leia, perhaps determine her suitability for Jedi training.

Obi-Wan donned his helmet again for the walk to Sabé's suite, and she idly wondered if there would be gossip about her taking strange bounty hunters into her room. The thought almost made her laugh.

They met Breha coming out of Leia's door, and the queen smiled, meeting Sabé's gaze. "She wants to see you."

"Oh. All right, I'll be right there."

Breha nodded, heading back down the corridor to re-join her guests. Sabé turned a corner and tapped the code to open her own door.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back."

Obi-Wan nodded, stepping through, and Sabé went back the way they'd come. Leia was awake, reading a book on her data pad.

"You wanted to see me, Your Highness?" Sabé said, taking a seat at the end of her bed.

"I just wanted to ask if you'd teach me self-defence now."

Sabé exhaled, considering. "To be honest, you did pretty well without it. Shoving that little brat into a spiky bush? Genius!"

Leia giggled. "I was worried you'd say it wasn't proper."

"He attacked you. Fair's fair." She sat up straighter, resting her hands on her knees. "I'll speak to your parents and see what they say. I wasn't much older than you when I took my first defence class."

She'd had to fight for it. Luma had been shocked that her daughter wanted to do such a violent activity, but Jago hadn't seen the harm. She wondered if he'd ever regretted saying that after her career in security took off. She doubted she'd ever get the chance to ask him.

"Thank you. Good night, Syrena."

"Good night, Your Highness. Remember the guards are just outside."

"I know."

Sabé slipped out of the room, nodding to the guards in question, and returned to her own. She halted just outside the door, taking a moment to breathe, and to appreciate the fact that Obi-Wan was really and truly _there_. It somehow didn't seem real. But when she entered the suite, there he was, standing by the window sans armour. The nondescript undershirt and trousers he wore were unlike anything she'd ever seen him in, but the neutral colour palette was familiar. The battered armour was neatly stacked in a corner.

"You must feel better without that," she commented, nodding towards it. "Can't be comfortable."

"It's not," he said with a wry smile.

They held each other's gaze for a drawn-out moment, searching for signs of hurt or damage, or perhaps even change.

"I can't believe you're really here," Sabé said with a quick laugh.

Obi-Wan's smile flickered into a smaller, warmer one. "It was safe enough for me to leave for a short while."

Sabé crossed the room towards him, stopping a respectful distance away. "Luke?"

"Fine," he said, nodding. "Although I haven't seen him close-up since he was a baby. Owen doesn't trust me."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I keep watch from afar. Cultivating my reputation as a strange desert hermit, I suppose."

Sabé tried to picture it, smiling.

"What about you," Obi-Wan asked, voice earnest, "are you all right here?"

"I'm fine," she answered automatically. "It's a good life, I shouldn't complain. I love the work I'm doing with Leia, I just wish…" She sighed, shrugging one shoulder. "I wish things hadn't had to change so entirely."

He gave a nod of agreement, his gaze dropping to her hand. "The ring must keep people from bothering you."

Sabé looked down at it, fiddling with it self-consciously. "It does."

He nodded once, as if that was what he had expected her to say, but there was something in his face that made her keep talking while she puzzled it out.

"That's not…uh…that's not why I…"

Then it hit her: his shields were finally down.

She stumbled on. "I mean…it's not why I kept…"

Obi-Wan took a step closer, his eyes fixed on hers with the kind of intensity she'd long given up hope of seeing again. Her mouth went suddenly dry and she stopped her jumbled words.

Obi-Wan filled the silence, a touch of trepidation in his face. "Sabé," he said, barely above a whisper. "Sabé, do you still…?"

The question hung in the space between them. Although it was unfinished, Sabé didn't doubt its ending for a single moment. She knew exactly what he was asking, even if she was unclear as to why. She also found that she didn't particularly _care_ why.

"Yes," she breathed.

His reply was an urgent plea. "Say it."

Time had passed since the last time they'd discussed the topic. She'd vehemently refused to declare herself then.

She didn't hesitate now.

"I love you."

Then his lips were on hers, his hands cupped her face, and all other thoughts vaporised. She clung to him, clutching the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back, attempting the impossible task of catching up on too many years apart.

She didn't question any of it. She'd done that too many times over the years, she was tired of it. They'd resisted when it mattered. Now the only thing that mattered was them.

She laughed at him when he fumbled over the fastenings on her dress, expertly undoing them for him. His hands ghosted across her skin, soothing the ache of isolation, and she tugged at his shirt, determined to do the same.

They stumbled into the bedroom, falling into each other's arms, finding with ease that connection they'd first discovered on an awkward wedding night so long ago.

When they'd truly found one another again, after the fervour had quietened and they lay still, Obi-Wan traced her cheek with his fingertips, murmuring words that had long been true, and long remained unspoken.

"I love you, Sabé…Syrena…every version of you."

Sabé smiled, her heart too full for words, and kissed him again.

* * *

 **A/N:** No chapter next week as I'm at a three-day vintage event facing my annual dilemma of trying to create 1940s styles with hair that adamantly refuses to hold a curl.


	35. Spark

**A/N:** Sorry for the unexpected weekday posting, but my weekend got eaten up with other stuff. Happy Monday!

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Five – Spark.**

It was long past midnight, but Sabé and Obi-Wan were sitting at the tiny table in her kitchen space, making up for the fact that they'd skipped dinner. Clad only in Obi-Wan's discarded shirt, Sabé smiled at him across the table, eyeing his bare torso with undisguised admiration.

"The blonde suits you," Obi-Wan remarked.

Sabé looked down at her hair, trailing loose over her shoulder. "It seemed a good idea in case Leia grew up looking too much like Padmé."

He made the connections at once. "You don't want people thinking you're the biological mother."

"No. It would only spark conjecture that Bail was the father. It would be horrible for him and Breha to have to deal with gossip. Although anyone with eyes can see that they'd never betray each other like that. Besides," she added impishly, "I know you like blondes."

Obi-Wan groaned, and she laughed.

"Would you believe that I prefer to see a person's inner beauty?" he said, adopting a pained tone.

"I would believe that if I hadn't met Satine. And if I look like Padmé, then I suppose I have to count myself as beautiful too." She said it matter-of-factly, as she too tried to judge people by themselves and not their looks. When she caught herself staring at him, however, she had to question her success.

"You are, and so was she. Just in different ways."

Sabé nodded, taking a bite of a breadstick. "Don't take this the wrong way, because I am really, _really_ glad to see you, but…why are you here?"

"To check up on Leia and to see you," he answered.

She reacted with surprise, somehow never really believing that she might be the main reason. She reached across the table, linking her fingers with his.

"You know I can't stay."

At the softly-spoken statement she nodded, smiling gently. "I know. It's okay. You're a man of your word." After a beat she added, "I have to know though…why now? After all these years…"

"I came to a realisation," he explained, leaning back in his seat. The table was small enough that their hands stayed clasped. "For the past six years I've been the best solitary Jedi I possibly can be. I feel more at one with the Force than I ever did in the Temple, and I feel capable of things I've never done before. And through it all, my feelings for you never wavered, never changed even a little. They're part of who I am, and who I am as a Jedi. In fact, I'm convinced that accepting that was what allowed me to reach this level of…peace, I suppose would be the best word. My love for you makes me the man I am. And knowing that, I didn't see any sense in denying it anymore."

Sabé listened, deeply touched. "I understand, but…but what if…something happened to me?"

Obi-Wan nodded, comprehending her concern. "You're worried it would lead me to the Dark Side," he stated. "For a long while that worried me too. But then I realised that that could only happen if my selfish need to keep you beside me outweighed all else. If something happened to you, I have no doubt that we'd one day find each other again, in the living Force."

She quirked a small smile. "If I go first, I'll wait for you."

"Deal," he said lightly, although they both knew the subject was anything but light. "What Padmé said stayed with me," he went on. "About letting Luke know love if he wanted to. If I can teach him how to look at it this way, I'm certain that it's possible for all future Jedi to know love."

"Are you here to teach Leia the same?"

"In a way, although I need you to do so as well."

"I've already been telling her stories. Bail wants her to trust the Jedi when she's older, so he had me plant the seeds now. That's how she knew all about you. You're a hero to her."

He laughed softly. "That explains her expression. She's so young to be trusted with these secrets though."

"She can handle it. She's so smart, Obi-Wan. She absolutely understands the gravity of it all."

"Yes, I can see that."

Sabé took her hand from his to pull the rest of her breadstick apart. "Let me know what you need me to teach her, and I'll see what I can do. Although it would be better coming from you."

"I believe I can visit every few years or so," he said, surprising her. "It wouldn't be prudent to do it more often than that."

"That's great!" she said with a grin. "I mean, I'll hate you leaving, obviously, but I thought you'd be gone for ages. Every few years doesn't sound so bad.

He smiled at her fondly. "Yes, it works out rather well with my ulterior motives."

She let out a laugh that was almost a giggle. "You know, when I offered to let you stay here I wasn't thinking of…this."

"I know. But I was."

She laughed again. "I should be scandalised, I suppose, but I'm really not."

He laughed too, turning his attention to the dried fruit on his plate. They ate in silence for a moment.

"I saw Padmé and Gregar," Obi-Wan spoke up as Sabé got to her feet to clear the crockery.

Her head snapped up in an instant. "Where? When?"

"In a town near the Lars homestead called Mos Eisley about six months ago. They're both well. I was able to let Padmé see Luke from a safe distance."

"What were they doing on Tatooine? Something for Bail?"

She was aware that her friends had been running courier missions for the fledgling rebellion for a while now, but she'd never heard details. It was safer that way.

"I believe so. I didn't ask."

Sabé pursed her lips in thought, dumping the plates in the sink.

"I mentioned I was coming here," Obi-Wan went on. "They said they'd be passing through a spaceport on Kuat's moon in just over a month's time if you're able to meet them there."

"Kuat?" Sabé repeated, eyes widening. "Is that safe? The Empire's main shipyards are there."

"If they went planetside, probably not, but the Empire has no presence on the moon."

Still frowning, she conceded with a shrug. "I'll request a leave of absence. Kuat isn't far, and I'd like to see them."

He nodded. "I'd like to come with you, but I must return to Tatooine in a few days."

Sabé accepted that with a playful smile. "We should probably make the best of the time then."

His gaze swept over her, lingering where the hem of his shirt just skimmed the top of her thighs. "I think that's an excellent plan."

* * *

Obi-Wan let his fingers trace the dark, bruised skin on Sabé's side, where one of the bounty hunters' staffs had hit her.

"Do you want me to help with that?" he asked her.

Dawn was just starting to seep through the blinds. They hadn't slept much, needing to connect instead. He would easily be able to sweep the tiredness away, but strangely it was adding to his overall sense of peace.

"Can you? Without damaging yourself, I mean?"

"I've been practicing," he told her. "Only on animals, mind you. Can't go spreading rumours about my so-called magic powers."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "I suppose not. Okay then."

He laid his palm flat on her mottled skin, drawing the Force around him, visualising it entering her body, stirring her cells into quicker healing. When he lifted his hand, the bruises were faded and far less swollen.

"Thank you," she said. "That feels a lot more comfortable."

He answered her thanks with a kiss to her shoulder.

"Could you get me a palace staff uniform, do you think?"

"I don't see why not," she replied. "The royal guard uniform has a hat with a low peak, it should shadow your face quite well. Leia and I often have a guard with us, so your presence wouldn't be suspicious at all." She rolled onto her back, catching his chin between her forefinger and thumb. "Might have to lose the beard."

"That's fine. Truth be told, it would be more comfortable without it in the heat, but it adds to my desert hermit persona rather well."

Sabé smiled. "Well you know I'm not fussy, although I can't help but wonder what it might be like to kiss you without it."

He smirked at her knowingly. "And how long have you wondered that?"

A faint blush stained her cheeks, which he found endearing. "Longer than you need to know about," she declared.

He laughed gently, taking in the familiar, subtly-changed lines of her face. Sabé in her twenties had been stunning, full of bloom. Sabé in her thirties showed more of her experiences on her face, leaving it perhaps a touch more weathered than it might have been. Her features were more angular, her demeanour more confident, and she was beautiful in her own unique way, more different to Padmé than she had been in their younger years. He didn't think anyone would mistake them for each other now. He missed her natural brunette waves, but the dark blonde hair had grown out of the messy jaw-length style she'd had when he'd last seen her, reaching the middle of her back.

"I'm sorry this didn't happen sooner," he said quietly.

"Don't," she said adamantly, resting a fingertip against his lips. "You needed to be certain, and I would wait as long as I had to for this."

"Even if it never happened?"

"Even then."

He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, leaning in to kiss her with every scrap of gratitude and affection he could muster.

"I'd better get to the fresher so you can conduct your scientific experiment," he teased her, pulling away.

Sabé made a sound of fond exasperation, rolling onto her side. He chuckled, shifting out of bed.

A short while later he returned, clean-shaven, and tried not to laugh at her little sound of pleased surprise when he pulled her close and captured her lips once more.

"I can almost imagine that we're back on that ship on Tatooine, breaking half a dozen rules," Sabé mused, keeping her eyes closed as she drew back from him.

"I'm not sure I would have made it past that feathered headdress," he said with mock seriousness. "And besides, it would have been a bit suspicious if I had the queen's make-up all over me."

Sabé laughed, opening her eyes. "Oh, can you imagine? Panaka's face!"

"He barely trusted me as it was."

"He trusted you, he was just grumpy. It's his nature."

She smiled as she thought of him, but there was a sad edge to it. Obi-Wan guessed where her thoughts had taken her. Panaka had to be one of dozens of people who wondered where she, Padmé and Gregar had disappeared to, and knowing Sabé, she probably felt a misplaced sense of guilt at the distress they'd caused in their safety measures. Panaka probably thought they were dead. That would be bad enough if they were simply the queen and soldiers he'd trained, but Gregar was his nephew. That had to sting worse than anything else.

"I hope Gregar managed to get a message to him," she added, sounding wistful.

"If you meet them on Kuat you can find out," Obi-Wan pointed out gently.

"True." She broke the brief melancholy mood that had descended and smiled at him. "Right," she said briskly, scrambling out of bed. "Let's go find you a guard uniform."

"May I suggest you put some clothes on first?" Obi-Wan said casually, watching her movements with admiring eyes. "Or is your plan to distract the guards?"

Sabé stuck her tongue out at him, heading for the closet, and he laughed. She donned the plain blue dress and practical belt that appeared to be her handmaiden uniform, sitting on the bed to tug on her boots. He watched her braid her hair and pin it into a bun, a much simpler style than anything she'd worn in service to Naboo. A cursory glance at the mirror and she was ready, and he smiled at how little time she took on herself when she was not required to meet anyone's standards but her own.

A short while later she returned victorious, a freshly laundered guard uniform in a neat pile in her arms. She deposited it at the foot of the bed, and he nodded his thanks.

"I spoke to the chief of security about this," she called to him, disappearing back into the main room. He heard her start her familiar caf routine, and it made him smile, recalling dozens of identical mornings in the apartment on Coruscant.

"Oh?"

"She's a trustworthy woman, but I didn't tell her who you were. Just heavily implied that a rebel operative needed to lie low here for a few days. She cleared it for you to be on guard duty for Leia. I said I needed to keep you near me."

"Thank you," he called back, locating his underwear and tugging it on before donning the uniform. Sabé had guessed his size almost perfectly, and he smiled to himself. After a lifetime of choosing outfits for Padmé, she'd developed a good eye for other people's clothes. When he entered the room, pulling the peaked cap low on his brow, she nodded approvingly.

"That'll work. Only someone who knows you well would notice you."

"No one here will be looking for me anyway," he said.

She ran her fingers down his smooth cheek, smiling a little at the difference, perhaps, then pressed a cup of caf into his hand.

"Thank you."

"With the amount of sleep I didn't get, I'm going to need a steady supply," Sabé commented, moving away to find breakfast food.

"Any regrets?" he asked lightly, knowing full well what she would say.

She grinned at him. "None."

* * *

Leia took Obi-Wan's disguise in her stride, understanding the need for secrecy. The three of them spent three days together, giving Obi-Wan plenty of time to impart some of the wisdom offered to young Padawans. Not that Leia was one, or possibly ever would be. The remains of the Jedi Order were doing things differently this time.

When it came time for him to leave, Sabé hugged him close, hating to see him go, but mindful that it would only be for two or three years. It was a long time, of course, especially when thought about in terms of days, but much, much better than the alternative.

Once again dressed as a bounty hunter, he kissed her lingeringly before regretfully stepping away to hide his face beneath the helmet.

"I love you," he said, voice strangely altered by the helmet's modulator.

Sabé smiled at the change. "I love you too. Fly safe."

"I will."

They walked in silence down to the landing platform, and Sabé waved him off, watching his ship fly away as she'd done over six years ago. She stood for a long time, feeling the strange mixture of pangs of loss at his departure coupled with the unbridled joy that the past few days had given her.

When she returned to the palace, Asher was waiting to see Leia. After the princess had outgrown his standard lesson plans, he'd been taken on as her art tutor, turning up once a week for a lesson. Sabé was always glad to see him, but found herself struggling not to smirk or blush in the face of his expression.

"Morning, Syrena," he said, tone heavy with insinuation.

"Morning," she replied nonchalantly.

"Are we going to talk about the handsome stranger seen coming in and out of your rooms?" he asked with a blatantly false innocent smile.

She shook her head firmly. "No. No, we are not."

He pouted. "Ugh. You're no fun."

She laughed. "How true."

Asher's expression turned mischievous. "No wonder you're looking so tired."

Sabé bit her lip, willing her warm cheeks not to give her away. "Can't believe you just said that," she muttered.

"Ha! I knew it." He nudged her arm with his elbow. "Good for you!"

"Stop," she said, laughing. "Just stop talking. I'm going to see if the princess is ready."

"Okay!" he said brightly. "Let me know if you want a little nap, okay?"

She shook her head, pulling a face, and mercifully hid behind the door of Leia's suite. Still, she was smiling. She didn't think she'd stop for a long while.

* * *

"Sabé!"

Sabé readjusted her footing as Padmé all but launched herself at her, catching her in a fierce hug. They were on board Padmé and Gregar's ship, a meeting place away from any prying eyes.

"I missed you two so much," Sabé exclaimed, gripping Padmé by the shoulders and moving her back so she could see her.

Like herself, Padmé's face had grown more angular as she got older, which accentuated the differences between them. Her sorrows had left an impact on her, but she was still stunningly beautiful, and nothing in the galaxy could strip her of her queen's posture and bearing. Her hair was brown again, but cropped closely to her skull. In all her days of serving Queen and Senator Amidala, Sabé didn't think she'd ever seen her friend with a more striking hairstyle. She didn't think she'd ever seen her more simply dressed, either, in a simple white shirt and trousers, with a tawny-coloured vest over the top.

"And I thought my flightsuit was casual," she remarked, looking Padmé up and down.

"You're blonde!" Padmé said, picking up the end of Sabé's braid and letting it fall.

"Yes, for now."

"Come up to the galley, Gregar's making caf."

"Sounds good."

Sabé followed her through the narrow corridors of the ship, climbing a ladder to the next level. Gregar was there, dressed similarly to Padmé, his smile as welcoming as the smell of caf. Sabé ginned when she saw him, but her eyes widened when she saw what he had clinging to his leg.

"Oh…oh my gods!"

"This is Leith," Gregar introduced, hefting the child in his arms. The boy looked to be about three, sporting a crop of brown curly hair. His skin was tanned light gold, a perfect middle ground between Padmé and Gregar's complexions, and he had Padmé's dark eyes. "This is Aunt Sabé," Gregar added.

Leith stared at her, his little brow wrinkled, and Sabé wondered if she still looked enough like Padmé to confuse him.

"Hi, Leith," she said, stepping closer, smiling.

"Shake hands," Gregar instructed.

Shyly, Leith extended his fist. Sabé took it and gently moved it up and down in an imitation of a shake.

"Nice to meet you."

"You too," Leith said in a quiet voice.

"Come on, we told you about Aunt Sabé, didn't we?" Gregar said, and Leith nodded but said nothing.

"Obviously your stories didn't make an impression," Sabé teased.

Gregar set him down, and he ran to Padmé, hiding behind her legs. Sabé stepped forward to hug Gregar, laughing when he lifted her off her feet like he'd used to. It was strange how he'd almost taken the position of annoying sibling when Idriel had decided to be more of a polite acquaintance.

"Why didn't Obi-Wan tell me?" she demanded when he let go.

"We asked him not to," Padmé said, moving to take over the caf making. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well you succeeded," Sabé declared, making her laugh.

"Come on, young man," Gregar addressed his son, "why don't you go and play in your room."

Leith accepted the invitation, staring curiously at Sabé as he exited the room.

"He's shy of new people," Padmé explained.

"I understand."

Sabé shimmied out of the top half of her flightsuit, tying the sleeves in a knot around her waist. The plain top she wore underneath showed her bare arms, and she noticed Gregar eyeing them as they settled at the ship's single booth.

"Keeping up with training, then," he remarked. "You look good."

Sabé glanced down at her modestly defined muscles. "Thanks, I try to. You as well?"

"Where I can."

Padmé joined them, setting three cups on the tiny table before sliding into a seat beside Gregar.

"How's my daughter?" Padmé asked her.

Smiling, Sabé gave her a full report, excluding the part about the bounty hunter attack. Padmé listened with glistening eyes, although she did not cry. She looked proud, and immensely grateful.

"I'm glad she has foster parents like Bail and Breha," she said, accentuating her words with a nod. "And I'm glad she has you."

"She knows about you," Sabé told her. "She read up on your senate days because she wanted to know more. She claims she can remember you, but I think she must have had some kind of Force dream."

Padmé reacted with surprise. "Does she know where I am?"

Sabé shook her head. "No. She assumed you were dead, and we didn't correct her. It seemed safer."

Padmé looked stricken, but nodded. "No, you're right, it probably is."

"If there's a chance for you to meet her when she's older, we can tell her the truth," Sabé said soothingly. "But for now, it's better for both of you if she carries on believing the lie."

Gregar nodded in agreement, clasping Padmé's hand on the table top.

"What about Leith, does he know he has half-siblings?"

"No," Gregar answered. "We'll tell him when he's older."

"Can't believe Obi-Wan didn't let something slip!" Sabé said, remembering his perfectly-placid expression when he'd relayed Padmé's message to her.

"I can," Padmé said, amused. "He's kept bigger secrets than that in his life."

"True," Sabé conceded. "Although he's taken one secret off his list."

She was vague, but her serene smile seemed to give away her meaning. Padmé and Gregar exchanged a grin.

"About time," Gregar declared with feeling.

"It worked out pretty well that you never got around to an annulment," Padmé added.

"I suppose, although it wouldn't have mattered to me. Oh…" Sabé trailed off, remembering too late that Padmé was still technically married to Anakin.

"It's okay," Padmé said, reading her correctly. "I'm known as May Typho. We're married in all but technicality, but it doesn't matter to me either. I'm just grateful for what I have. And Leith is wonderful," she added, breaking into a smile. "Not a day goes by when I don't think of the twins, or regret what was necessary to keep them safe, but…I'm glad to have him too. And I'm so grateful to you and Obi-Wan for what you're doing."

Sabé smiled, but said nothing, not wanting to go down the route of Padmé needlessly apologising for keeping them apart. The likelihood of Obi-Wan having his own Jedi path to follow had always been high regardless.

Instead she changed the subject to something lighter, and they spent the rest of the evening reminiscing. Leith joined them for dinner, and by the time Sabé's visit was over, he'd lost a little of his shyness, even giving her a short hug of farewell.

"I'm glad you're keeping safe," Sabé said as she hugged Padmé goodbye. "Bail never tells me anything about what you're doing."

"It's for the best. I'm just so glad to be doing _something_ , even if I can't help in the way I might want to." She sighed. "Politics still feels more comfortable, although I can't pretend that being able to act in a more hands-on way isn't rewarding in itself."

"Just be cautious. There aren't many safe places left in the galaxy."

"We will. You too."

With a final round of waves and goodbyes, Sabé left the Typho family ship, smiling to herself at the knowledge that her best friends had managed to find a measure of happiness in a galaxy that seemed to grow ever darker.

* * *

It was not many weeks later that Asher bumped into Sabé as she was coming out of her routine medical. Stunned, she almost literally collided with him, and he dropped his data pad in favour of steadying her.

"Whoa, are you all right?"

Sabé glanced up at him and blurted out the truth that still didn't feel like truth. "I'm pregnant."

His dark eyes widened almost comically. "Ohhh," he said in a long exhale.

"Guess which idiot forgot to get her implant renewed?" she groused rhetorically. "I mean, it's not like I ever expected…never mind."

"How did that happen?" he asked her. "It's not like I thought you were celibate all these years."

"Actually, I have been," she said with a humourless laugh.

He eyed her with open curiosity. "So what's so special about Mr. Mysterious from a few months back?"

Sabé sighed, deciding to trust him with another truth. "He was my husband. Our duties keep us mostly apart."

With a pang she realised she had no way of contacting him. He'd arrive in a few years' time to meet a child he would know nothing about. She bit her lip, already anxious about the eventuality.

"You keeping it?" Asher asked.

Sabé considered. She had never wanted kids, or even thought of herself as the maternal type. She would certainly never have planned them. But now that she carried one, a symbol of the connection between herself and Obi-Wan, she found herself warming to the idea. The Force seemed to have deemed it necessary that Luke and Leia be born. Perhaps it had a role for her child too.

"Yes," she decided, feeling herself smile despite a mountain of apprehension. "Gods help me."

Asher laughed. "Then it's cause for celebration, lady. Let's go get you a fruit juice."

"Oh, right. That's all I'm allowed."

"Afraid so. Don't worry, I know a place that mixes up flavours like nowhere else."

She smiled, grateful for the companionship, trying not to remember everything Padmé had grumbled about when she had been pregnant.

 _It can't be that bad, she chose to go through it again._

With that rather unconvincing statement in mind, she let herself be led away to begin the task of preparing for something life-changing.

* * *

 **A/N:** Surprise children everywhere!

Sabé's blonde look is inspired by Keira's appearance in 'Silk'. Padmé's is based on Natalie's look when her hair started growing back after 'V For Vendetta'!


	36. Birth and Loss

**A/N:** Lots of time jumps in this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Six – Birth and Loss.**

Obi-Wan was easing his overworked mind, carrying out repairs on his moisture vaporator, when Qui-Gon's spirit informed him that Sabé had safely delivered a baby girl. He set down his hydrospanner, sending a silent wave of gratitude to the Force. His heart ached to rush to them both, but he knew it wasn't time yet. Once again, he would have to be patient.

He'd sensed a faint echo of Sabé's struggle as she'd endured the labour, a new experience for him. For all their closeness and affection, he'd never sensed anything from her from such distance before. He surmised that it was their child that was the cause, and he wondered if she'd be Force sensitive. He wondered what she looked like, what Sabé would name her, and then he stopped himself. The answers would be given to him in time. He had to trust in the Force.

* * *

Leia peered into the crib, eyes round.

"She's so little!" she exclaimed. "Was she really in your stomach, Syrena? How does that work?"

"That's a conversation for another time," Sabé declared adamantly, and Bail laughed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Tired but okay. Are you sure you're all right with me having so much time off?"

He nodded, smiling kindly. "It's absolutely fine. These early days are precious. Before long she'll be running around."

"Can you still come and tell your stories?" Leia asked, looking up from where she was trying to make the newborn grab her finger.

Sabé had turned story time into an opportunity to tell Leia some of the Jedi lore that Obi-Wan wanted her to know. It had become one of her favourite times of the day.

"When I can," she assured the princess. "Although it won't be every day."

"That's okay," Leia said graciously.

"Come on," Bail said, reaching out for Leia to take his hand. "Let's let Syrena rest."

"Feel better," Leia ordered her cheerfully.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Bail hesitated in the doorway, turning back to her. "Almost forgot. What's her name?"

Sabé smiled, glancing at her daughter's white-swaddled figure. "Kira."

He smiled back at her. "Pretty. Nice to meet you, Kira."

Not yet being one for conversation, Kira ignored him. He didn't seem to mind.

"Get some rest," he said before letting the door slide shut.

Sore but content, Sabé endeavoured to do just that, sending a little prayer up into the cosmos before drifting off.

 _I wish you could be here to see our daughter. She's beautiful._

* * *

Sabé was waiting in the corridor when Leia got out of her politics and history class. The princess's slightly frazzled look evaporated immediately, and she ran over to crouch before the wobbly two-year-old holding Sabé's hand.

"Hi, Kira!" Leia said enthusiastically, pulling faces and making Kira laugh.

"Glad those etiquette lessons aren't going to waste," Sabé commented dryly.

"I know when to be proper," Leia said, sounding pained. "This isn't one of those times."

Sabé found it difficult to argue when Leia's antics were making her daughter giggle.

"Is it time for training?" Leia asked.

"Yes. I thought you might want to come with me while I drop Kira off at day care."

"Yes, please."

Leia had been Kira's best friend from day one, appointing herself as an unofficial big sister. Sabé thought Padmé would approve, and she wished she had a way to tell her.

Kira walked between them, holding their hands, making slow, ungainly progress down the hallways.

"Toddlers aren't very elegant," Leia observed sagely, speaking over Kira's happy muttering.

"They're still learning how to use their limbs. Elegance will come. Or it might not," Sabé reconsidered, wondering if she dared let a grandchild of Luma Simmonite's be anything _but_ elegant.

"Will she have to learn it like I do?"

"Possibly, although she's not a princess. She doesn't have to follow the same rules that you do."

Leia pouted, no doubt at the unfairness. She accepted her duty with more grace than she'd done as a very young child, but it was clear that she found some of the trappings of royalty restrictive, despite her aunts' best attempts to mould her.

"Will she take over as my handmaiden?" Leia asked.

Sabé rose an eyebrow, surprised by the question. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "Depends what she wants to do with her life. It's not a hereditary position. Handmaidens are chosen."

"Like their monarch," Leia stated with a nod.

Since Leia was used to the notion of rule by birth right, Sabé had spent a long afternoon explaining the differences between Alderaan's traditions and Naboo's. She understood the difference between a born queen and an elected one, although she hadn't made up her mind which system was better.

"Oops," Sabé said as Kira let go of her hand and plopped down on the corridor floor. "Had enough walking? I don't blame you." She lifted her daughter into her arms, and she cooed her approval. "Better? You can see more from up here, can't you?"

"Yes," Kira said, giving her a gap-toothed smile.

They continued on, reaching the palace day care centre much faster without having to keep to Kira's pace. She could walk well, even run when she felt like it, but sometimes she still wanted to be carried.

"Papa come," she said out of the blue.

"Soon, I hope," Sabé answered her. "You'll see him soon, I promise."

Kira giggled at some private toddler joke, and Sabé handed her over to the day care staff.

"See you later," Leia said, waving. Kira waved back.

Sabé and Leia headed for the large training room used by the palace guard. Ever since the bounty hunter attack, Sabé had been teaching her basic defence. Leia knew every move off by heart, and their ongoing work was building up her strength to ensure that she would be able to adequately perform them. Of course, it wasn't enough for Leia, who now wanted to learn how to shoot too. Bail and Breha had yet to clear that idea, and Sabé was trying unsuccessfully to recall how old _she'd_ been when she first fired a training blaster.

 _Probably older than eight,_ she decided, watching Leia run through her moves.

The afternoon had given way to evening by the time their session was done, and Sabé escorted Leia to her rooms so she could shower and change before dinner. She picked Kira up and let her walk some of the way back, having the luxury of the time to do so. Kira seemed energised from the day care, so Sabé took her out onto one of the balconies.

"See how fast you can run to the other side!" Sabé said, lightly patting her on the backside. "Go!"

Kira took off, little legs propelling her forward at a jolting pace. She hadn't quite grasped that bending her knees would help, although Sabé was sure she'd pick it up soon enough. She reached the bench on the other side, bashing it with her hands triumphantly.

"Good!" Sabé called. "Back again!"

Kira started running towards her with a broad grin. Sabé hoped the exercise would tire her out. She'd been generally good about sleeping through the night ever since she was born, but Sabé suspected her dreams sometimes woke her. It was one of a few signs she'd seen that indicated that Kira might have inherited her father's Force sensitivity. It worried her, as she wasn't sure how safe it was for Kira and Leia to be close together.

She held out her hands, clasping Kira's as she got nearer and stopping her from bashing into her legs by using the momentum to swing her around.

"Well done!" she praised, hoisting her up, although she was getting heavy. "You're getting very fast, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Your grandmother would be appalled at the state of your dress," she commented, brushing at what she thought was a chalk mark.

A familiar gentle laugh had her spinning, heart in her mouth. An Alderaanian guard stood in the doorway, hat pulled down low, but there was no mistaking the shadowed face underneath.

"Ben," Sabé whispered, remembering that she was outside. She scrambled for an explanation, wondering what would be the most tactful way of enlightening him as to who Kira was.

"Papa," Kira said adamantly, and Sabé turned startled eyes on her.

Obi-Wan approached them, not looking at all surprised, tentatively holding his hand out to his daughter. "Hello, little one."

Kira grabbed his hand, looking up into his face. Sabé had known her to be wary of strangers in the past, but she was utterly calm. The two of them just looked at each other, as if conducting a silent conversation that she could only guess at. Perhaps it was a Jedi thing.

"I'm your father," Obi-Wan said after a long pause.

"I know," Kira said, smiling.

His gaze shifted to Sabé's, and she was deeply moved by what she saw there. She rose on tiptoe, kissing him in greeting, and he held her close, his arms around both herself and Kira.

"How did you know?" she asked him, dropping back onto her heels.

"Qui-Gon told me," he answered simply. "What's her name?"

"Kira."

"Hello, Kira."

"Hi," Kira replied brightly. "Get down."

Sabé moved back out of Obi-Wan's embrace and set her on her feet, and she ran for the other side of the balcony. Her parents watched her go, moving so they could stand close together.

"I'm sorry you had to go through it alone," Obi-Wan said, his voice regretful but resigned.

"It's okay. It couldn't be helped. Bail and Breha have been very supportive, and I have a good friend here who helped keep my spirits up."

"That's good."

"I missed you, though," she admitted, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"And I you. Both of you."

She didn't question how he could miss someone he'd never met. She understood.

"Let's take this somewhere more private," she decided. "We have a lot to talk about."

He nodded in approval.

"Kira! Inside!"

Kira obediently changed course, running right up to the doorway and slowing to a walk as she'd been taught.

"Good girl," Sabé praised her. "Take my hand now."

Kira did so, staring up at Obi-Wan until he did the same on her other side. Sabé led the way to her new quarters, a suite with an extra room that Kira was slowly making her own, one messy artwork at a time.

Sabé commed Bail with her apologies and was excused from dinner. No doubt he guessed the reason. He'd been very discreet about Sabé's relationship with Obi-Wan, although she still wasn't sure exactly what he thought about it. She set about feeding her family for the first time, half wishing she kept more supplies. It was one of the most joy-filled evenings that she'd ever had, filled with firsts as she and Obi-Wan figured out their footing as co-parents. It was exhausting but rewarding, and they stood together united in victory as they watched Kira drift off to sleep in her bed.

Withdrawing to the lounge area, they worked efficiently to clear up, reminding Sabé of the ease with which they'd worked around each other in their apartment on Coruscant. Finally they settled on the sofa with glasses of wine, sitting close together, hands loosely clasped, and talked.

"Qui-Gon brought me the news quite late," Obi-Wan told her. "Just a few weeks before she was born. I sensed when you went into labour, although nothing that gave me any updates. Then he told me it was a girl, and I breathed easy again."

"Thank you, Qui-Gon, for being the galaxy's messenger," Sabé said lightly, toasting him with her glass.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "She's amazing," he said, smiling. "And so are you."

She laughed quietly at his praise. "She's Force sensitive, isn't she?" she asked, sobering.

"Yes, although not as powerful as the twins. She can sense who I am. I have to admit, I'm glad. It would have been difficult to see her and have her be wary of me."

"She knew you were coming," Sabé said, remembering. "I thought she was just asking _when_ you would be coming, but I think she knew. I've talked about you every day, making her familiar with you as best I can."

"Thank you."

Toying with her glass, she voiced the question she was most afraid of. "Is it safe for her to be here with Leia?"

Obi-Wan grew still, and she surmised that he was searching the Force for answers. "I don't see why not. Her power level is different to Leia's, they won't resonate off each other in the same way Leia would have with Luke. Still, it would be unwise for them to draw attention to themselves."

"I don't think there's any danger of that," Sabé said truthfully, "not without formal Jedi training."

A comfortable pause followed, and then Obi-Wan spoke again. "When I returned to my hut after leaving you, I had a vision. It was almost the same as one I had years ago, centring on Anakin's lightsaber. So I took it out of the trunk I'd hidden it in and meditated on it. The vision came to me again, but clearer. I saw a young man that I believe to be Luke wielding it. He was powerful but afraid. I think it's my task to ensure that he loses that fear. Then I saw a young woman. When I first had this vision, I assumed she was Leia, but now I feel that's wrong. In fact…she resembled you. She had dark hair, fastened in three buns."

Sabé looked at him with raised brows, her gaze drifting inevitably to Kira's bedroom door.

"It wasn't Kira either," Obi-Wan said with certainty. "This woman had hazel eyes, and I see Kira has inherited mine. I think – I _believe_ – that this woman is our granddaughter. Perhaps even a more distant descendent."

Sabé mulled the information over in her head. "But why would Anakin's saber not pass to Luke or Leia's children?"

"Maybe they won't have any. The vision didn't show me any more than that," he explained.

"You said Luke was afraid," she mused. "Did you sense any emotions from the woman?"

"No. It faded before I could do anything more than study her face. But with her resemblance to you…it wasn't so much of a surprise when Qui-Gon told me you were pregnant."

They each fell silent, considering.

"Pity you couldn't see an end to the Empire," Sabé said wistfully.

"If only we could choose our visions," Obi-Wan said, although she knew he didn't mean it. "But no one should have that kind of power."

Sabé set her glass on the table, tucking herself up closer to him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too. In fact…I wanted to ask you something."

She peered up at him, awaiting the question.

He met her gaze, face solemn but not uneasily so. "Will you marry me?"

Sabé stared at him in surprise, then laughed. "We've been married for years," she felt obliged to state, although she knew he couldn't have forgotten.

"Yes, but this time I want it to be a free choice. For both of us." He cupped her face with a warm hand. "Sabé, will you say the words to me again not because you have to, but because you truly want to?"

Her amusement softened into a smile of gratitude and love. She covered his hand with her own, turning it to plant a kiss on his palm. "Yes, I will."

* * *

The low-powered blaster bolt hit the very edge of the target, and Leia scowled. Sabé smothered a laugh at her expression, but didn't want to hurt her feelings. The eleven-year-old princess had finally got her wish, and they were out in the vast gardens for her second shooting lesson.

"Remember to keep your arm as straight as possible," Sabé reminded her.

"When can I try a rifle?" Leia asked, brow furrowed in concentration as she focused on aiming.

"When you've mastered a pistol."

Leia fired three shots in succession, each time creeping a little closer to the centre of the target. With her determined expression and her brunette braids wound around her head, she resembled Padmé in a way that caught Sabé's breath for a split-second.

"I think this pistol is unbalanced," Leia said sulkily, sounding as if she knew very well that it wasn't.

 _Teenage years are on the horizon_ , Sabé thought, tempering her smile.

"Let's see," she said, holding out her hand for the blaster. She quite liked Alderaanian design. It was more business-like than the sleek Nabooian guns she'd trained with, its barrel long and tapered. She raised her arm, shooting four shots directly into the target's centre.

Leia had the grace to say nothing, sheepishly taking it back and trying again. "Will I ever get as good as you?"

"With practice, but you have to work at it. I didn't become a good shot overnight." She sent her an encouraging smile. "Use your skills. Find your centre of calm like Ben showed you. I think you'll find it easier to concentrate."

They were both familiar with Obi-Wan's alias, slipping in and out of using it depending on where they were.

"Okay. Sorry, Sabé."

"It's okay, I know it's frustrating. But you _can_ do it."

Since learning about the Order of Sanctuary, Leia had insisted on using her taken name when they were alone. Sabé didn't mind. She'd never really grown used to being Syrena anyway.

Leia closed her eyes for a moment, drawing on her meditation techniques. Then she opened them and fired, sending a bolt through the target a mere inch or so from the middle. She grinned.

"Well done," Sabé said smiling.

A small, battered fighter flew in low over their heads, and Leia instinctively ducked. Sabé peered up at it with a frown. The landing platform was adjacent to the gardens, but pilots knew better than to fly directly over them. They watched the fighter land clumsily. A figure pushed open the canopy with effort, scrambled slowly and awkwardly out. Sabé's frown deepened. She recognised a wounded figure when she saw one. The pilot made it out of the cockpit, dropped heavily to the ground, and did not move.

Leia gasped, and Sabé gripped her shoulder. "Get a medic. Now!"

Leia took off across the lawn, and Sabé bolted for the landing platform. Her heart raced in fear as she got closer, realising she recognised the figure. She dropped to her knees, hand at his neck as she felt for a pulse.

"Gregar! Gregar, it's me!"

He looked a mess, bloodied and bruised, his side blackened with a cauterised wound. A lightsaber wound.

"Oh gods, this was Vader, wasn't it?" she muttered, patting his cheek. "Gregar, talk to me!"

His single eye fluttered open, but it took him a while to focus on her. "Sabé."

"Yes, I'm here. You're going to be okay," she assured him, fervently hoping it was true.

The pain in his face spoke of more than just his injuries, and she found herself crying, knowing exactly what he'd come to tell her.

"Leith?" she asked.

"Safe," he mumbled.

"Gregar, tell me. Just tell me. Is she…"

"She's gone," he said, and his face crumpled in agony.

Sabé bent over him, embracing him as best as she was able, her tears running unchecked down her face. "Hold on," she told him. "Just hold on, help is coming."

He said nothing further, but she felt him grip the fabric of her sleeve. She watched the progress of the approaching guards and medical personnel, Leia in their midst. She didn't know what else to say, how else to console him when such a huge loss lay between them. So she simply held onto him, stayed beside him to be what comfort she could.

* * *

"It was Vader," Gregar told her a few days later, when he was recovered enough to hold a conversation. "Of _course_ it was." His voice was bitter, understandably so. "I should've gone first. It should have been me."

"No, Gregar, no," Sabé protested earnestly, gripping his hand. She sat in a chair by his bedside, where she'd remained for the best part of two days waiting for him to wake up after treatment.

"Yes, Sabé," he insisted, angry, although not at her. "Above all else I was her security chief. I should have been able to keep her safe. It should have been me."

"Facing up against Vader…you're lucky to be alive."

"Right," he said sardonically. "I feel _real_ lucky."

Sabé said nothing, waiting while he composed himself. "Tell me what happened," she said gently.

"I still don't know. I guess someone must've spotted us. We were on Scipio, I won't say why."

Sabé nodded, well-used to the rebellion's secrecy.

"We weren't sure what to expect, what with the Banking Clan's ties to the Separatists back in the day, so we left Leith with a friend." He shook his head, jaw clenching as he stared down at the crisp white sheets. "Thank gods… I can't imagine…"

Sabé squeezed his hand.

Gregar swallowed hard and continued. "We were just preparing to leave when he found us. Have you seen that suit? On the HoloNet?"

She nodded. "Yes. Thankfully not in person."

"It's so… I can't even describe it. But he doesn't seem human. Definitely not a person we once knew. He recognised me, but still didn't put two and two together until he realised we were alone. Padmé always suspected that he knew my name from a vision, and had no idea that Gregar and Captain Typho were the same person. Once he figured it out…" A shudder went through him, and Sabé didn't ask him to elaborate. "He attacked us, slashed me with his lightsaber. He would have killed me, but…but Padmé… She saved me. She pushed me over the edge of the landing platform. I fell down half a mountain's worth of snow and landed in the spaceport below. She was still screaming at me to get Leith when he killed her."

Sabé shook her head, wiping her tears with her sleeve. "Gods, Gregar, I'm so sorry."

"It was a miracle that that fighter was nearby and I was able to get to it. I ran a few manoeuvres to lose any pursuers, but I think I must've lost consciousness a few times. I came here because you were closer than Leith. And I knew you needed to know."

"Do you want to send for Leith? You can both recover here."

He considered, scrubbing his tears from his face. "I don't feel like I'm going to be getting out of here as soon as I'd like, so yes, please."

"I'll talk to Bail and arrange it. He'll know who to send."

Gregar nodded, and Sabé squeezed his hand again. They sat in silence for a while, trying to support each other without words.

The door slid open, revealing Asher. He held Kira by the hand, and wore a sympathetic look.

"She was asking for you. Hope this is okay," he said.

"It's fine," Sabé said with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Asher."

"No problem."

He left, and Sabé held her hand out to Kira. Kira walked over, eyeing Gregar with undisguised interest. Sabé lifted her onto her knee, although at five, she was getting a little too heavy for it.

"Who's this?" Gregar asked, a look of surprise cutting through his grief.

"This is Kira," Sabé introduced. "This is my friend, Gregar. Say hi."

"Hello," Kira said quietly, still not sure what to make of the new acquaintance.

"Nice to meet you," Gregar said, admirably hiding his despondent tone.

"You're all so _sad_ ," Kira stated, frowning.

"We just lost someone we loved very much," Sabé explained. "Gregar's wife, my best friend. So we're going to feel sad for a little while."

"Papa's coming."

"Is he? That's good."

Gregar's brows shot up. "That's…handy."

Sabé managed a smile. "She always knows."

"She has his eyes. But she looks like you."

"She does, doesn't she? I had hair this untameable once too." She ran her hand over Kira's messy braids, making her wrinkle her nose.

"What happened to your eye?" Kira asked with five-year-old tact.

"I lost it," Gregar told her. "A long time ago now."

"How'd you lose it? It's attached."

He let out a gruff laugh, although it seemed to take him by surprise. "I was in a fight. It wasn't very nice."

Kira considered that, tilting her head. "Oh."

"That's enough interrogation," Sabé said, setting her back on her feet. "Let's leave Gregar to rest."

He attempted a smile. Sabé was loath to leave him on his own, but she needed to be a mother, and he needed to try and sleep.

"I'll be back when I've put her to bed, okay?" she assured him.

"It's fine, Sabé. I'll be okay until morning. I promise."

She scrutinised him for a few moments before nodding. "Okay. I'll talk to Bail about Leith."

"Thanks."

She ushered Kira out of the room, turning to look back at him before letting the door slide closed. He had already closed his eye, but she couldn't tell if he really intended to sleep or if he was pretending so she wouldn't feel guilty for leaving.

Biting down another wave of grief, she left the med centre, resolved to find Bail and send someone to pick Leith up as soon as possible. Gregar needed his son, and his son would need him.

* * *

 **A/N:** And so Padmé catches up with her canon fate. Poor thing.

Yes, I'm writing a Rey Kenobi origin here, because this is likely to be the only time I do so. In canon I love the idea of Rey being 'no one', because it shows that great power and importance can come from oneself rather than one's family, (completely opposite to Ben Solo, who is hyper-aware of family legacy), and she does not need to be the descendant of a central male character in order to be relevant. But for the purposes of Sobi fan fic, Daisy Ridley's similarities to Keira Knightley are too good to pass up, so I'm exploring it here.


	37. Hope

**A/N:** More time jumps!

To Valairy Scot: Thank you for reviewing, glad you're enjoying it :)

General note: If you happen to be reading this story on the Russian site , please note that I did not give my consent for my work to be posted there. Unfortunately there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. Fan fic authors don't profit from their work, which is fine because we're just having fun playing with other people's characters. That site, however, profits from ad revenue off the back of stolen works reposted without permission. So not only are they getting money for our hard work, they're also profiting from other people's intellectual property. Please consider checking out stories on or Archive of Our Own, where our stories are posted by us. Thank you.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Seven – Hope.**

Sabé lay awake, soothed by the feeling of Obi-Wan's fingertips tracing up and down her back. He had arrived two days after Kira told her he was coming, and Sabé was glad to have him there while she grieved.

"It won't end, will it?" she spoke up softly. "He won't stop until he's found Gregar again."

"Gregar must lie low with the rebels for a while," Obi-Wan said. "The Empire still sees any anti-Imperial acts as irritating protests. They won't be hunting for them until they become a significant threat. He and Leith will be safe with them."

"A grudge held for over a decade," Sabé mused, her tone sullen. "I hope he thinks it's worth it."

"Who knows what he thinks anymore," he muttered, resigned. "Tell me about Kira."

Smiling, Sabé updated him on their daughter's progress, sharing as many anecdotes as she could recall. Eventually, mind focused on happier things, she fell asleep still in his arms.

It was a rare occurrence that she woke before him, so she was surprised to open her eyes and see him peacefully asleep still. Her arm was numb, but she didn't move, taking the opportunity to study him instead. The light caught the silver in his hair, more prominent than it had been the last time she'd seen him. With a jolt she realised he was nearly fifty. She'd known him for half his life. They'd been married for fourteen years. It seemed such a strange thought, as to her he was ageless. As was she. She didn't feel forty, and it was sometimes a shock to look in the mirror and see lines where there had once been smooth skin.

 _Such is life_ , she reminded herself. _We're the lucky ones._

"Why are you staring at me?" Obi-Wan said quietly, his eyes still closed.

"Just admiring the view," she answered him, watching his lips curve up.

He opened his eyes, eyes she saw every day in their daughter's face, and fixed them on her. "I think that should go both ways," he stated.

"I'm not stopping you," she quipped.

He traced unhurried fingers across her skin, and Sabé held her breath. She kept herself in good shape, for herself as much as her job, but pregnancy and the passage of time had left permanent marks on her body. Not that he ever seemed to mind, always reacting to any changes with interest every time he visited, but Sabé was always aware of them. His touch found her scars from the wound he'd saved her from, and he lingered there for a beat, remembering. His gaze was hot on her face.

"What time does Kira usually wake?" he asked, voice husky.

Sabé trailed her hand down his chest, meeting his eyes. "Not for an hour or so."

"Excellent."

* * *

Gregar was out of bed but confined to his room when Leith arrived, dropped off by one of Bail's most trusted aides. Sabé went to meet him, hoping he remembered her. More than that, she hoped she didn't remind him of Padmé. She'd switched back to her natural hair colour in recent years, feeling confident that no one would mistakenly link her to Leia.

Someone had evidently told him what had happened, as he looked solemn and tired when he emerged from the ship. He greeted her with a half-hearted, "Hi, Aunt Sabé," as if they saw each other all the time, and she resisted the urge to hug him, knowing it would make him awkward.

"Let me take you to your dad," she said, clasping a hand on his shoulder as she walked with him.

She left him alone with Gregar, letting them grieve in private, feeling choked up as she did so.

It was a strange few days, with so many of her loved ones so close together. Leith and Leia were kept separated, by mutual agreement of Gregar and Bail, who didn't think they were ready to learn about each other's existence. Since Leia didn't know Gregar anyway, it wasn't too difficult to orchestrate. The older she got, the more time she spent in lessons, or instructional sessions with Bail or Breha, so Sabé had plenty of time where she wasn't needed. She spent it with Obi-Wan, Gregar and Leith, finding ways to honour Padmé and begin the task of getting on with life.

Kira and Leith were introduced. Sabé and Gregar hovered nearby, as if their status as best friends could be automatically projected onto their children. But Leith had no interest in a five-year-old playmate, and Kira was too in awe of his eight-year-old wisdom to speak much.

"Guess they're not going to be us two-point-oh," Gregar remarked, watching them happily engaged in their own, solitary activities.

"Yes, but be fair," Sabé said. "We didn't meet until we were in our teens. You'd probably have ignored me too at this age."

"Probably," he agreed. "You _can_ be kinda boring."

Sabé smiled, happy to hear some of his old humour returning. "We established that years ago. I have more hobbies now! I still make jewellery. Leia's taken a shine to some of it, actually. Her aunts are livid. Of all the expensive pieces she could wear, and she prefers the rubbish that I throw together."

He laughed, but there was a sad edge to it. "She's a rebel, all right."

 _Like her mother_.

Obi-Wan, who had been good-naturedly keeping out of their conversation, sat forward and spoke up. "I've heard you mention these aunts before. They sound…interesting."

Sabé pressed her lips together, raising her brows in acknowledgement. "You could say that. They mean well, and they've been amazing at teaching Leia etiquette, but they're so…so…" She struggled for the right words.

"Well now you _have_ to finish that sentence," Gregar said.

Sabé smiled, finding the best way to relay it. "They don't like it when Leia does anything unladylike, and they disapprove of her political studies with Bail. They think that she should be putting her focus on finding a suitable husband rather than looking at being a senator."

"She's only eleven!" Gregar protested.

"I know, but apparently there's no such thing as planning too early."

"I can't see her conforming," Obi-Wan commented.

"No," Sabé agreed. "In fact, the more they push, the more likely she is to go and marry someone completely unsuitable to royal life _just_ to spite them!"

"The galaxy had better lock up its attractive pirates," Gregar said with a straight face. "Besides, she may want a wife. Or no one at all."

"She might, but I think the aunts are hoping for a blood successor to the throne next time around."

"What difference does it make?"

Sabé shrugged. "To you and me, it doesn't. We're used to elected leaders. But Alderaan treasures its royal family. I wouldn't be surprised if Leia had to deal with a bit of backlash when she takes the throne, from those questioning her suitability because she's adopted."

Obi-Wan was silent, and when Sabé looked his way, he wore a slight frown.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, coming out of his moment of stillness. "Just…I think things may change before then. When I try and picture her as Queen, I see only…I'm not sure, actually. But I think she may end up being a leader of a different sort."

Sabé reacted with interest, but didn't pry. Largely, she preferred the future to be unknown.

"Do you ever see into Luke's path like this?" Gregar asked, lowering his voice for the sake of the kids nearby.

"Bits and pieces," Obi-Wan admitted. "Nothing solid. I'm a lot more distant from him than I am Leia, as ironic as that sounds. I've barely seen him since he was an infant."

"But he knows who you are, doesn't he?" Sabé asked.

"He knows of Ben the desert hermit," Obi-Wan said. "I bumped into them in a street in Anchorhead once, and Owen turned them back the other way. I distinctly heard him refer to me as a 'crazy old man'. I believe I was only about forty-six at the time, rather unflattering. Beru, at least, sent me an apologetic glance."

"What's he so afraid of?" Gregar enquired. "Does he know about…" He trailed off, but all three of them finished the sentence silently. _Vader._

"I don't think so," Obi-Wan replied. "I don't see how he could. What he knows is that he had a step-mother he loved, who, although happy with her new family, never stopped missing her only son who had been stolen away by the Jedi. And then Anakin returned, full of anger and strange powers, only to bring Shmi's body back to the homestead. It's hardly the most promising picture of the Jedi."

"I guess not," Gregar conceded.

Sabé glanced at the chrono on her wrist. "I've got to go and accompany Leia to her dancing lesson."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Oh, she's going to hate that."

"Don't I know it?" she said rhetorically. "Can you get Kira's lunch if it overruns?"

"Of course."

She gave him a quick, chaste kiss of farewell, then, in the interest of fairness, pecked Gregar on the cheek too.

"Behave yourselves, boys," she ordered them.

"No promises," Gregar said.

* * *

Obi-Wan departed a few days later, and Gregar and Leith a week after that. Sabé didn't hear from them often, just the occasional message passed through Bail, through multiple operatives that she didn't know. Although she'd made her support for the fledgling rebellion clear, her duty to Leia kept her out of its secrets.

Leia's interest in politics took firm hold of her at the age of twelve, and by fourteen she was a junior legislator, often accompanying Bail to Coruscant. Sabé always remained behind for those trips. It was unwise to bring her anywhere near Palpatine or Vader, and she wouldn't have wanted to return there anyway, given the choice. Besides, Bail's aide Sheltay Retrac was an expert in self-defence, and Sabé trusted her with the princess's safety.

She knew, too, that Bail was not keen on Leia appearing with a handmaiden, on the off-chance that people would think of Naboo and make the connection to Padmé. Leia was growing up beautiful, but she was not a carbon copy of her mother, which was a blessing for the secrecy of her identity. She had Padmé's colouring, but her nose was Anakin's, as was her rather caustic sense of humour.

Leia's duties gave Sabé much more free time, although she was not at liberty to join Obi-Wan on Tatooine, still needed for the long weeks that Leia spent at home. Sabé put the time to good use, finally learning more about the rebellion.

Leia herself had started taking on a few missions here and there, most of which revolved around her fleet of ships being 'stolen' by rebel cells, thus passing vital equipment to the rebellion. After one such mission, she returned to Alderaan while Obi-Wan was there, excited to report that she'd met two Force-users. Obi-Wan received the news with curiosity, but showed no signs of wanting to track them down. He had his own task to do.

At the age of seventeen, Leia became the youngest senator ever elected, allowing Bail to retire, although he remained on Coruscant as her advisor for the first year or so. On one occasion, Leia returned home unusually quiet and out of sorts, and Sabé felt her heart almost stop when she heard that Leia had met the Emperor and Darth Vader. Although her identity remained safe, the dark aura surrounding the two had left Leia deeply shaken. Fortunately, Obi-Wan returned for a visit not many weeks after that, and Leia sought out his guidance and advice. He spent long hours teaching her and Kira about emotional control, although Leia picked it up much faster than her eleven-year-old companion.

The more involved Sabé got with the rebellion, the more she started to tentatively hope that they had a shot at doing some damage to the Empire. Gregar was a fully-dedicated operative, and Leith was primed to follow in his footsteps. Sabé was surprised to learn that Asher had been a courier for years, and the two of them often undertook missions together, running supplies or information to various places under various covers.

Kira resented being left behind every time, but she was still too young to come along. Sabé had begun training her the way she'd trained Leia, and Kira's Force-sensitivity gave her the sharpest instincts that Sabé had ever seen in a student. She was a good shot too, although Sabé liked to think that that was down to _her_ genes, not Obi-Wan's.

One afternoon, not long after Kira's fourteenth birthday, Sabé was preparing to say a temporary goodbye to her daughter. With Sabé's training, Kira was well on her way to becoming a markedly proficient warrior, and had requested to go on a mission for the rebellion. Sabé had initially planned to be the one to take her, but Leia had requested her presence for a separate trip, and so she was sending Asher instead.

"I want you to fly right back here the minute you hand over the package," Sabé addressed them both sternly.

Asher, wearing his forty-one years with the same distinction that he did his clothes, smirked at her. "Yes, Mom."

Kira stifled a laugh. "We will," she promised, stepping forward to give Sabé a reassuring hug. When she stepped back, she wore a faint frown.

"What's the matter?" Sabé asked, resting her hands on her shoulders. Her daughter was almost as tall as her now.

"I don't know," Kira admitted, looking a touch confused. "For a second there I thought I sensed…" Her vision cleared, and she fixed Sabé with a firm gaze. "You're going off-planet, aren't you?"

"Yes, I have to accompany Leia somewhere. Why?"

Kira considered for a moment, then blinked, shaking her head. "Nothing. Don't know. I think I'm tired."

Sabé sighed, frowning at her. "Are you sure you want to be taking on this mission?"

"Yes, definitely. I'll be fine with Asher." She smiled Obi-Wan's confident smile. "I'll see you in a few days."

Sabé nodded. "Be safe, both of you."

Asher returned her nod, smiling encouragingly. "We will."

Sabé retreated to the edge of the landing platform, watching as their ship took off and flew away. Pressed for time, she headed for the larger landing platform on the east side of the palace.

A ship had already landed by the time she got there, and she could see Bail, garbed in a casual olive-brown cloak, talking seriously with Leia. Leia was dressed in one of her senate gowns. She'd designed them herself, ignoring every piece of advice her aunts gave her. Her dresses were very plain, just a small symbol of her rank here and there, nothing like the ostentation she'd be wearing if her aunts had had their way. The dress's light, flowing fabric fluttered gently in the wind, stirring the hood and draping sleeves. It was stark white from high neck to long hem, her waist cinched by the silver belt that marked her as a member of the royal house. As always, she wore practical boots underneath it, a habit she had picked up from Sabé.

Sabé herself wore her usual blue-grey, her dress a tighter fit around the torso than Leia's to allow her maximum movement. Her belt was brown leather, and she wore a pistol at her side. She wore her hair in a messy knot at the nape of her neck that she hadn't had time to redo. Leia wore hers in two flat buns, coiled over each ear. It was a traditional Alderaanian style that she often wore when going off-planet.

"Sorry I'm late," Sabé said, hurrying up to them. "I was just seeing Kira and Asher off."

Bail quirked a small smile, glancing at his chrono. "You're barely two minutes late, I wouldn't worry about it."

He turned, and they followed him up the ramp.

"Let's go and see what all this fuss is about," he said as they went.

* * *

The fuss, as it turned out, was significant. The Alliance's leaders had all gathered at the base on Yavin 4. Sabé recognised many familiar faces in the meeting room, jam-packed as it was, although she didn't spot Gregar. She and Leia got separated from Bail in the crush, but managed to find space near the outskirts.

Sabé learned that the rumours that had been circulating were true. The Empire had been building a superweapon, and it had already destroyed an entire city in a single blast. A young woman named Jyn Erso, who seemed to be of dubious credibility, was making a plea for the Alliance to fight with her while she went to steal the plans for the thing. She made a convincing case, claiming the plans would show a weakness that they could exploit to destroy it.

Sabé listened as the leaders argued back and forth, some in favour of fighting, some believing they should surrender and disband. Bail spoke up firmly against that notion, claiming that they'd all worked too hard to give up the Alliance. Sabé privately agreed with him, and she could tell Leia did too by the way she huffed every time someone spoke up against him.

Eventually, however, those in favour of going to retrieve the plans were overruled, and Mon Mothma had no choice but to abide by the group's decision.

"This isn't right," Leia muttered to Sabé. "Finding a weakness in the Death Star is our only hope of destroying it, why can't they see that?"

"Going up against that kind of power is frightening," Sabé said. "The Alliance hasn't launched a full-scale attack on the Empire at all, and to start with this…it's a big step."

"What's the point in them even joining an alliance if they're not going to act?" Leia snapped, her eyes following Jyn Erso as she all but shoved her way out of the room.

Sabé shook her head. "It still seems insane to me that someone would build something so…utterly destructive."

"I know. I wonder if it seems as horrific to those not born on pacifist planets."

"I hope so, otherwise there's no hope for sentient life in this galaxy."

When the crowd thinned, they were able to catch up with Bail, who was just breaking away from a conversation with Mon Mothma.

"There you are," he greeted. "I take it you heard the outcome of the meeting."

"Yes," Leia said irritably.

Bail smiled, seemingly reading much from her tone. "I know it's frustrating, but there will be other chances to fight."

"Not if we're all turned to dust," she responded bluntly.

"I have a mission for you," Bail said, wisely changing the subject. "Sabé, I need you to go and fetch your husband. Leia will accompany you as ambassador."

Sabé looked at him in surprise. "Is it time?"

"I think so. War is coming, regardless of what happens here. We need him."

Sabé nodded, understanding. Obi-Wan was an important asset, to be sure, but she knew that it was _Luke_ who was needed. It was finally time for him and Leia to meet and realise their full potential. Bail was willing to finally fulfil whatever promise he'd made to Master Yoda.

"What about you?" Leia asked.

"I must go back to Alderaan and help your mother. We have to rally the people and prepare."

Leia nodded. "Is there a ship we can borrow?"

" _Tantive IV_ is undergoing repairs, it's docked with Admiral Raddus's ship, the _Profundity_. By the time you reach your destination, it should be fixed enough for you to land it and bring your passenger on board. The admiral will escort you."

"Okay," Leia said with another nod. "We'll leave right away. I won't let you down, Father."

He hugged her, briefly resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I know you won't."

After parting ways with Bail, Sabé and Leia went to join Admiral Raddus at his shuttle as he was preparing to return to his ship. He was a gruff, amber-eyed Mon Calamari, whose deep blue skin probably made him efficiently stealthy underwater. He was polite with the princess, but seemed none too happy to be put on escort duty. Sabé suspected he had no idea what – or rather, whom – he would be picking up. Obi-Wan's survival was a secret entrusted only to a few. Bail had even lied about it to fellow rebels, trusting only Mon Mothma.

Once on board, they headed to their own ship rather than be in the way on the _Profundity_ 's bridge, and awaited their arrival at Tatooine. Sabé caught sight of Artoo-Deetoo and See-Threepio in _Tantive_ 's corridor, and the little astromech droid whistled a greeting. Threepio had received a precautionary memory-wipe upon being accepted into Bail's service, which Sabé thought was sensible due to the droid's incessant chatter. The sight of them brought back memories of Naboo and Coruscant. Different times. Sometimes it seemed like someone else's life altogether.

She turned her thoughts to their mission, feeling her heart flip in anticipation. Their long exile was almost over. This time, Obi-Wan would come to Alderaan for good. Although she didn't kid herself that they could have a peaceful domestic life, at least they could finally be together, no matter where they ended up living or fighting. Leia was a grown woman, who had been independent of her help for a long time now. Sabé was sure the princess wouldn't begrudge her a chance to be with her family.

"Admiral Raddus to Princess Leia."

Leia looked up from the data pad she was reading and activated her comlink. "Go ahead, Admiral."

"Apologies, Your Highness, but we're diverting to Scarif."

Scarif. The planet that housed the Death Star plans. Sabé and Leia exchanged a glance.

"Has this order come from Alliance command?" Leia asked.

"No, Your Highness," the admiral said, sounding completely unapologetic. "But Erso's rebel cell is already there against orders, and I am of the opinion that retrieving these Death Star plans is of the utmost importance."

Leia bit her bottom lip, looking conflicted. "I agree," she said at length. "But please have someone standing by to release us if we need to continue on our mission alone."

"Very well. Raddus out."

Leia and Sabé rose to their feet almost in unison. In mutual silent agreement, they headed for _Tantive_ 's bridge.

"Let's hope they finished our repairs, or we'll be limping to Tatooine," Leia commented as they went.

"Scarif isn't too far out of our way," Sabé pointed out. "I'm sure we can make it."

Sabé surmised that enough time had passed to bring them fairly close to Tatooine when Raddus's call had come in. Diverting to Scarif wouldn't take long. They joined Captain Antilles and his co-pilot, updating them on the situation. They could see nothing out of the viewport but the underside of the _Profundity_ , so Antilles pulled up images from the Mon Calamari cruiser's bridge.

They'd been there for less than twenty minutes when they dropped out of hyperspace above a small world, shining a bright cyan hue. It would have been beautiful, had it not been for the Imperial ships and the energy shield gate that prevented anyone from landing without authorisation.

"The fleet is here," Captain Antilles said with surprise.

"They must have flown with us," Leia speculated. "The admiral never intended to just sit by on escort duty."

Sabé frowned, suspecting she was right. While she agreed that they needed to take action, she would have preferred to keep Leia out of it.

In addition to what they could see on the console screens, Antilles tuned into the pilots' frequency so they could hear their chatter, and they watched as one squadron made it beyond the shield gate before it was closed. As soon as the gate cut them off, their transmissions were lost, and they heard Raddus give the order to attack the shield gate.

Leia chewed on her thumbnail as they watched, although her demeanour was otherwise calm. "If they don't destroy that gate, our people on the ground won't be able to transmit the plans," she said.

Sabé didn't answer, wincing as the _Profundity_ took heavy fire from a squadron of Imperial TIE fighters. None of them said it, but they were acutely aware that if the _Profundity_ 's shield failed, _Tantive_ was vulnerable. They were well-protected, tucked away underneath the hull of its underbelly, but only as long as the ship held.

Raddus pressed his attack despite the damage, and Sabé quashed a flare of annoyance at his recklessness, firmly believing that Bail would be furious when he found out what was happening. His tenacity paid off, however, and they soon disabled one of the Star Destroyers guarding the gate.

One of Jyn Erso's men came through on the com, ordering them to take out the shield gate. As Leia had correctly guessed, they could not send the files while it was operational. They heard Raddus barking orders to another rebel ship, telling them to evacuate all non-essential personnel.

"What's he planning?" the co-pilot asked aloud.

"Don't know," Antilles replied.

They soon had their answer. The evacuated rebel ship ploughed straight into the disabled Star Destroyer, pushing it towards the shield gate and taking out a second Destroyer as it did so.

"We're receiving the transmission, sir!" an unknown officer said over the com.

"Guess the intel was genuine," Sabé commented over Raddus's response.

"Let's hope it proves useful," Leia said.

Sabé's next words were cut off as a colossal object emerged from hyperspace, a metal sphere the size of a small moon. The Death Star.

"Gods above," Sabé exclaimed, gripping the back of the co-pilot's chair.

Leia's face had gone pale, her dark eyes wide. Then her look of determination returned as she controlled her emotional reaction.

"I've never seen anything like that," the co-pilot breathed.

"None of us have," Antilles's responded curtly. "Focus, Lieutenant."

The Death Star fired a luminous green laser beam at the surface of the planet, and the destruction radiated outward from the contact point, covering a frightening amount of distance.

"They'd destroy their own information archive?" Sabé asked rhetorically.

Leia didn't answer, her expression grim. Sabé knew what they were all thinking. Had the plans finished transmitting before the place was destroyed?

"May the Force be with you, Jyn Erso," Leia muttered. There was no way any of their ground troops could have survived.

Sabé felt a sympathetic pang for Jyn. Her impassioned words to call them to action had been heartfelt, and she felt sure the young woman would have achieved many more great things had she not given her life for her cause.

"All ships prepare to jump to hyperspace," Raddus's voice said.

Sabé watched as most of the fleet disappeared, following his orders. Before the _Profundity_ could follow, however, another Star Destroyer jumped out of hyperspace, raining fire on them.

"I feel cold," Leia said, suppressing a shiver. "It's Vader."

Sabé eyed the Star Destroyer, deeply uneasy. Leia shouldn't have been anywhere near this battle, and now…

"The _Profundity_ is disabled," Antilles reported. "What should we do?"

"Stand by, Captain," Leia ordered, reaching for her comlink. "To any Alderaanian personnel still on board the _Profundity_ , get those transmissions on a datacard and retreat to _Tantive IV_ immediately."

A handful of responses filtered back to her.

Sabé stood by as Leia gave orders to her troops, trying not to let her pride show. Leia was truly starting to come through as a leader, as Padmé had had to do as Queen of Naboo. It was bittersweet to watch, but Sabé knew her friend would be proud too.

"He's boarded the ship, Admiral!" one of Raddus's men said over the com.

"Close the hatches!"

"Turn off the com," Leia instructed, her tone solemn. There were some things it was better not to hear. "Captain, go and make sure our people get aboard."

"Yes, Your Highness." Antilles got up to comply, and another officer moved in to take his place.

Sabé held her breath as they waited, feeling her nerves stretched taut. Then there was a jolt as the ship disengaged from the _Profundity_ 's hull, and _Tantive IV_ drifted, the viewport suddenly full of the aftermath of battle.

"Set course for Tatooine," Leia barked, and the pilots hurried to obey.

Presently Antilles returned, handing her a single datacard. Leia took it, and Sabé could tell from her expression that she was fully cognizant of the importance of what she was holding.

"Are you all right?" Sabé asked.

Leia nodded, her hand tightening around the datacard. "We have hope now," she said simply.

Hope was a powerful tool, and the galaxy needed it more than ever.

"The hyperdrive is still damaged, Your Highness," the pilot reported. "It will hold for now, but it's leaking a residual energy signature. The Empire could track us."

"Weapons and shields are severely compromised," the co-pilot added.

Sabé quashed her fear and looked to Leia. "We can't lead them to him," she said quietly.

"I know," Leia replied, revealing for just a moment how unsure she was. "But we need him. Perhaps if we fly close enough to send a message."

"If Vader sees our damaged systems, the fact that we've stopped above Tatooine could seem accidental," Sabé added.

"Exactly. We'll have to send the plans too, we can't let them get back to Imperial hands."

"Agreed. I think I know who we can trust to deliver them."

Leia looked at her quizzically, but turned to Antilles. "Maintain our present course for as long as possible. Keep me informed."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Leia and Sabé retreated to a nearby corridor where they would not be overheard.

"What do you have in mind?" Leia asked.

"Artoo-Deetoo," Sabé told her. "He's a uniquely loyal little droid. We can trust him to hide the plans _and_ fetch Ben."

"How do you know that?"

Sabé smiled. If Obi-Wan brought Luke with him, the princess was about to hear a lot of revealed secrets. Best to start somewhere small.

"Artoo used to serve on board a Nabooian ship. After that, he served Padmé Amidala. I've known him since I was sixteen."

Leia's eyes widened at the mention of her birth mother. "He served Padmé? Why am I only hearing about this now?"

"It wasn't important," Sabé said truthfully. "But we can trust him."

Leia stared at her for a beat longer, then nodded. "Okay." She moved further down the corridor to the com panel on the wall, and activated a switch. When she spoke, her voice echoed throughout the entire ship. "Artoo-Deetoo, please report to the conference room right away."

When they got there, the droid was already waiting. Threepio was hovering nervously outside, but did not venture in without orders. Sabé thought it was probably prudent to keep the gold-plated chatterbox out of it.

"Thank you for coming," Leia said politely, and Artoo whistled an acknowledgement.

"Do you remember the day you saved the Nubian cruiser?" Sabé spoke up. "And I commended you as Queen Amidala?"

Artoo beeped a series of positive-sounding noises.

"We need to ask you to be brave again."

* * *

 **A/N:** Seeing as it's been a long time since I've written anything in this time period, this was the first time I've been able to incorporate Rogue One into a fic. It was pretty interesting to do! Moving on to A New Hope. Should be fun. Right?


	38. Needles in the Haystack

**A/N:** Moving into ANH territory. I'm portraying Obi-Wan a little younger here, by which I mean I'm portraying him how I believe Ewan's Obi-Wan would be at 58. It seems weird to say that Alec Guinness is too old seeing as he was the first person to bring this character to life, (and respect to the master, always), but I feel like if they were trying to match up with Alec, they probably should have aged prequel Obi-Wan up a few years. I adore his portrayal of Ben Kenobi, but I find him hard to think of in Sobi terms, due to the continuity in my head. I can be writing Sobi into their 60s, 70s, 80s and my brain would still be picturing ROTS-Ewan and present day-Keira!

To Valairy Scot: Very true. You'll have to wait and see!

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Eight – Needles in the Haystack.**

The ship jolted as it was being boarded, and Leia and Sabé exchanged a glance.

"Get Artoo to the escape pods," Leia ordered her.

"What about you?" Sabé had, at Leia's own request, dropped the formal 'Your Highness' from her addresses years ago, knowing that they both felt they had a more familial tie. Now, knowing that Darth Vader was coming, Sabé looked at the woman she saw as a niece and wondered if she'd ever see her again.

 _No, her birth was the will of the Force. She will survive this. But I might not._

"I'll hide and fight back. I'm the ambassador on this ship."

"All right," Sabé conceded, "but don't fight too hard. And _don't_ antagonise them with that fake Coruscanti accent! We're on a diplomatic mission."

Leia quirked an ironic smile. "Of course. Be safe, Sabé."

"You too."

Drawing her blaster, Sabé turned and ushered Artoo down the corridor. Threepio trailed in their wake, confused, but seemingly unwilling to leave his astromech friend's side. Sabé didn't have the time to argue with him about it.

Artoo knew the way, and she followed him, keeping an eye out for stormtroopers. Faint sounds of exchanged blaster fire from the upper levels could be heard, and Sabé silently thanked those who were fighting hard to delay the Imperials.

"Artoo, we're not authorised to go in there," Threepio complained as Artoo made a beeline for an empty pod.

"You are today," Sabé said. "If you're going, get in there. If you're not, get out of the way."

Threepio turned to look at her, almost managing to seem indignant at her words. But he awkwardly bent to fit through the pod's tiny hatch, and Sabé crouched to look inside.

"Safe travels, my old friend," she said to Artoo. "We're counting on you now."

Artoo whistled a reassuring response, and she sealed the hatch. The pod released, and she watched it drift away towards the dusty brown orb of Tatooine far below. Then, knowing that it wouldn't take long for the stormtroopers to sweep the ship, she headed away from the scene of the crime.

They caught up with her in a supply closet, where she was pretending to hide in fear, and she let herself be manhandled into a pair of wrist binders. They took her blaster, and were annoyingly thorough enough to find the vibroblade in her boot. With a blaster barrel jabbed between her shoulder blades, they moved her through the corridors.

The stormtroopers were nothing like the clone troopers, despite their similar white armour. The clones, even after they'd turned on the Jedi, had had a sense of brotherhood and mutual respect. The stormtroopers felt to Sabé almost like hired thugs.

She saw a group of fellow prisoners up ahead being directed into the conference room, and wondered if she would be sent to join them. Then, turning a corner, the looming form of Darth Vader appeared before her, and her heart clenched in alarm.

He halted, staring at her. She stared back, unable to see anything of Anakin Skywalker in the imposing figure. The dark red-tinted lenses of his masked helmet revealed not even the slightest hint of humanity. His controlled, mechanical breathing was the only sound, his suit forcibly keeping him alive.

Sabé was aware of the stormtroopers becoming fidgety, wondering, no doubt, why it was taking him so long to speak or act. She wondered if he still saw Padmé in her face.

Finally he spoke, just two words. "Take her."

The deep rumble wasn't anything like Anakin's voice. He was taller, too. Anakin had always towered over most people, but with Vader's robotic limbs he was almost as tall as a Wookiee. Tall and broad and faceless, with that voice and that rasped breathing…Palpatine had created the ultimate figure of nightmares when he'd saved Anakin's life.

The troopers pushed her onwards, and Vader continued on his way. She was taken not to the conference room with the others, but off the ship and onto the Star Destroyer it was now docked in. There, she was shoved into a holding cell and left alone.

After a while, she heard them throw someone into the cell next to hers, and she waited until the steps had faded before calling out.

"Can you hear me?"

There came a faint knock on the wall, followed by Leia's muffled voice. "Sabé, is that you?"

Sabé almost sagged with relief. She was safe for now, but they were far from out of the woods.

"Yes, it's me. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"Fine."

"Shut up in there!"

At the trooper's yell, they both complied, and Sabé sat on the floor, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. They were fine, but for how long? She tried not to think about it, thinking instead of Kira, of Obi-Wan, and of Artoo-Detoo, and the mission they had given him.

* * *

It was rare that the will of the Force made itself so blatantly known, but when it did, it almost made Obi-Wan smile. There was nothing else that could have orchestrated Artoo finding Luke, and then them both finding him. He'd feigned not recognising the droids, and Artoo had somehow managed to send him a look that indicated that he was not impressed. Obi-Wan had almost smiled at that, too.

After a brief struggle with some Tusken Raiders, which had resulted in See-Threepio losing an arm, Obi-Wan had brought them all back to his hut. Luke had run into the droids after Owen had purchased them from Jawas, and had stumbled upon a garbled message that had stated Obi-Wan's name. Not his alias, but his true name. Upon hearing the surname, Luke had assumed that Obi-Wan Kenobi was a relative of Ben's. Obi-Wan had soon corrected him.

For the first time in far too long, he was able to sit with Luke and tell him about the Jedi and the Force. While the young man listened with interest as he fixed Threepio's arm, he showed no signs of wanting to go against his uncle and leave Tatooine. Obi-Wan knew logically that there would have to be a long road ahead, where he would have to persuade Luke to visit him for training, but somehow that didn't feel right. The Force had another path in mind, although it did not choose to tell him what it was. Obi-Wan could be patient.

Keen to plant the spark regardless, he retrieved Anakin's lightsaber from its hiding place and presented it to Luke.

"Anakin was one of the best friends I've ever had," he said honestly. "The best star-pilot in the galaxy. A brave and determined warrior, one of the most powerful Jedi Knights in the history of the Order."

"Uncle Owen said he was a navigator on a spice freighter," Luke said with confusion.

"Your uncle…didn't hold with Jedi ideals. That's why he's kept me at a distance from you, he didn't want me trying to persuade you to train."

"I couldn't be a Jedi," Luke scoffed. "I can't even get away to train as a pilot at the academy."

"From what I hear, you're a pretty good pilot already," Obi-Wan said, drawing a smile. "And perhaps you're right. Perhaps the Jedi life isn't for you."

Luke frowned a little, looking disappointed enough to tell Obi-Wan that his young charge was already sufficiently intrigued with the idea to consider it, even if only as an unobtainable dream.

"How would I know anyway?" Luke asked nonchalantly.

"Have you ever known something was going to happen before it did? Ever felt when a friend was upset or hurt? Ever seen things in dreams that you couldn't possibly have known about?"

Luke's brow furrowed as he considered, but cleared with a brief expression of realisation. "Sometimes."

Obi-Wan nodded. "That's the Force, giving you an insight into how it could be your ally. And here." He stepped forward, offering him the lightsaber.

"What is it?"

"Anakin's lightsaber. I think he would have wanted you to have it."

Luke took it, turning it over in his hands, instinctively being wary of the activation switch. "How did he die?"

Obi-Wan had been expecting that question, but found it difficult to find an answer. "He was betrayed," he said at length. "By the Emperor. By Darth Vader."

"Vader?" Luke repeated, face troubled. The whole galaxy knew the name, and knew to fear it.

"Vader used to be a Jedi," Obi-Wan explained with vague caution. "He was my student, what we call a Padawan learner. But as he grew older, more powerful, he turned further into the Dark Side. I was unable to pull him back."

"And he killed my father?"

Obi-Wan remembered Mustafar, Anakin's screams as he let Vader's hatred burn into him forever. Anakin Skywalker had died that day, on the banks of the lava river. "Yes," he answered, but found himself unable to meet Luke's eye.

Luke was silent for a long, pensive pause. Then he stood up, activating the lightsaber and studying its blade in awe. He gave it a few experimental waves, being careful not to cut anything.

"What do you feel when you hold that blade?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I feel…I feel like I'm meant to hold it. Like I could learn how to use it." He switched it off, turning eagerly. "Could I? Could I learn to fight with it?"

"Of course you could, if you chose that path. But you would have to give up moisture farming and come and train with me."

Luke's face fell, and Obi-Wan knew he was thinking of Owen. The paranoid farmer was finding it more and more difficult to keep Luke at the homestead the older he got, and Luke was starting to feel resentment at his uncle's restrictiveness. Obi-Wan knew Owen meant well, only wanting to keep Luke safe, but the twins had been born for a reason. Owen could not stand in the way of their destiny.

Artoo whistled encouragingly, drawing their attention. The restraining bolt that the Jawas had attached had confused some of his systems, but he seemed to have finally located the recording.

Obi-Wan watched as two holographic figures materialised, both wonderfully familiar. He sat forward in his seat, eyes fixed on Sabé's face, picking up how she was trying to hide how worried she was, even through the low-quality image.

"Master Obi-Wan," Leia began, her tone formal. "It's time. The Alliance has finally made a stand against the Empire. My father sent us to fetch you and bring you back to Alderaan, but our ship has fallen under attack, and the mission has become much more important. I've placed information vital to the survival of the rebellion into the memory systems of this Artoo unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan."

Both figures looked sideways at a noise the recorder had not picked up.

"They're coming," Leia said.

"Don't look for us, Obi-Wan," Sabé spoke up urgently. "It's just the two of us. And what Artoo carries is far more important than anything else. Remember the living Force. I'll meet you there."

"The fate of the rebellion is in your hands," Leia took over as Sabé visibly collected herself. "Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're our only hope."

Leia bent to switch off the recorder, and the two figures fizzled out.

Obi-Wan cupped his chin with his hand, troubled, thinking. Luke was silent too, eyes wide.

"Will you learn the ways of the Force and come with me to Alderaan?" Obi-Wan asked him.

"Alderaan? No, I can't. I have to get back, I'm in for it as it is."

"I'll need your help. _They_ need your help."

He hesitated, thinking, but looked too torn to agree. Obi-Wan felt an ungenerous stab of irritation at Owen and his influence, but just as quickly let it go.

"Who are they anyway?" Luke asked.

"That is Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. And Sabé, her handmaiden."

"What did she mean, the…the living Force?"

Obi-Wan sighed at the innocent question, but chose to answer it truthfully. "It means she doesn't expect to survive. We always said we would see each other in the living Force after we die."

Luke turned shocked blue eyes on him, and Obi-Wan hoped his words were having an impact. In that vein, he decided to elaborate further.

"Sabé is…my wife."

At that, Luke looked bewildered, glancing at the place where the holograms had vanished. "And she was…saying goodbye? You have to go and rescue her!"

Pained, wishing he could do just that, Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. You heard what they said. I must protect Artoo and get him to Alderaan." He thanked the Force that Sabé had let him know that Kira wasn't with her. _It's just the two of us_. Not that he wouldn't worry about Leia as well, but it was a relief to know that his daughter was far from Vader's reach.

"You can't be serious!" Luke exclaimed.

"Sabé has a duty to her princess," Obi-Wan told him firmly. "Mine is to you, in honour of your father."

Luke fell silent, and Obi-Wan sensed he was feeling the gravity of the situation at last. "Look, I can't get involved," he said, his tone much more regretful than it had been. "I'm sorry. But I can take you to Anchorhead or Mos Eisley, wherever you need to go."

The Force seemed to want him to back down, and so Obi-Wan nodded, accepting the offer. He had to trust that Luke would change his mind. He didn't quite bank on just _how_ the Force would bring it about.

* * *

Sabé and Leia had been transferred aboard the Death Star separately, so Sabé had had no opportunity to assess the princess's condition. She'd said she was okay in their cells on the Star Destroyer, but she had to be afraid. They were as deep into enemy territory as they possibly could be, two small rebels amongst thousands upon thousands of Palpatine's lackeys, in a space station big enough to lose a herd of rancors in.

Although no one had informed her as to their whereabouts, Sabé knew she could only be on board the Death Star. The size of the hangar she was in when she was hauled from a shuttle was too great to be an average space station. She was escorted to a detention block so far away, she had to be taken there on a small repulsorcraft.

Alone in a cell, she tried yelling for fellow prisoners as she'd done before, but no one answered. The station was so new, they hadn't had time to fill up the cells yet. She paced back and forth, trying to get her worries under control. She was likely to die here, and she had to come to terms with that. She'd been trained to face death by the Order of Sanctuary, but that had been before she'd had a daughter. Now, the thought of not seeing Kira again felt like a blade to her heart. The thought of not seeing Obi-Wan again…that stung too, although she'd had more practice at dealing with that scenario. If the Imperials didn't kill her, the rebels would, when they found a weakness to exploit and destroyed the place. She and Leia were ultimately expendable, although Sabé found it hard to believe that that's all the Force had in store for Padmé's daughter.

She was making an attempt at meditation when Vader came for her. Stormtroopers slapped the binders back on her wrists and hauled her off to an interrogation room, attaching her bound hands to the ceiling. They retreated to stand outside the door, leaving her alone with the man who'd killed her best friend.

 _Calm down, stop thinking about that, it's not going to help_ , she told herself.

"So," Vader began, "the handmaiden is still alive."

Sabé didn't respond, eyeing him warily.

"Do you know what happened to your old mistress?"

"We lost touch," Sabé said. "She's probably dead by now."

He didn't react, choosing another question instead. "What were you doing with the Alderaanian princess?"

"Just making a living. Any type of royalty needs handmaidens."

He paced before her, slow, measured steps. Sabé tried not to show how unnerving it felt. The last time they'd spoken, he'd accused her of being responsible for Obi-Wan's coma, mere days before trying to kill him himself. That had been another time he'd intimidated her in a small space, although it was nothing to this.

"Do you know the whereabouts of the traitor Gregar Typho?" Vader asked her, watching her closely.

"No," she answered. If she had to guess, she would have thought he was at the rebel base, but she didn't know for sure. She clung to that truth, kept it locked in her mind as she responded.

Idly, she wondered if Anakin had ever truly known how deeply the friendship between Padmé and her staff had run. She guessed not, as Vader did not press her for more answers, but moved on to something much more vital.

"Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Focusing on his life as Ben, where the name and deeds of Obi-Wan had had no meaning, she strove to believe what she was saying so it would ring true. "Dead."

"Are you quite certain?"

It sounded like a trick question, and she approached it carefully. "No, not certain. I've not…seen a body, or anything like that, but all the Jedi are dead."

"Not all of them." His voice, although much more monotonous than Anakin's, managed to sound annoyed by that fact.

"Well I haven't seen one in years." That, too, was true. She hadn't seen Obi-Wan in over three years.

"You expect me to believe that you haven't seen the man you're married to? The man whose ring you still wear?"

Too late, Sabé realised she should have taken it off. "It was only ever an arrangement between us. I wear the ring because I have no interest in taking another husband, it keeps people from harassing me."

"And it would be awkward to marry again when your first husband is still alive," Vader said with dry sarcasm.

" _Is_ he still alive?" Sabé asked, pitching her tone somewhere between curious and sceptical. "I find that hard to believe. Where could he have been all these years?"

"That," Vader growled, "is the key question."

"Well, if you find him let me know. I need his signature on our annulment forms."

Vader appraised her, his silence seeming to indicate that he was trying to figure out if she was mocking him.

"What were you doing at Scarif?" he asked.

Sabé fought to keep her expression neutral through the speedy subject change.

"Our ship was docked with a Mon Calamari cruiser for repairs. We didn't choose where we went during that time. We were supposed to be heading back to Alderaan."

"In which case, Tatooine would have been the wrong direction," Vader stated flatly.

Sabé lied as smoothly as she could. "The cruiser was damaged, we had to release the ship before it was fixed, we thought we'd be able to make it to Tatooine and finish the repairs there."

It was pointless, she knew, but she kept up the pretence. He'd clearly identified the ship amongst the rebel fleet.

"What happened to the plans the rebel spies sent you?"

"Plans," Sabé repeated with an air of confusion, "what plans?"

"Several transmissions were sent to the Mon Calamari cruiser before the base on Scarif was destroyed. What happened to them?"

"I don't know. I guess they were destroyed with the ship?"

"An escape pod was jettisoned from your corvette with no life forms aboard. Did your princess hide the plans there?"

"I don't know," Sabé said again. "I'm just a handmaiden. Maybe you should send a squadron down to the planet to check."

She was certain that he'd already have done so, and so she didn't feel like too much of a traitor for suggesting it. She just had to hope that Artoo and Threepio had managed to get far away from the pod before the stormtroopers reached it.

"Where is the rebel base?"

"I have no idea. I told you, I'm just a handmaiden. If anything important was happening, I'd be the last to know about it."

If he hadn't already held Leia under suspicion, she'd never have said anything so dismissive. Even intimating that much implied that there was a chance that Leia was a rebel. But they thought that anyway, and she saw no harm in pretending to be somewhat guileless to put them on the back foot.

Vader stared her down for a long moment, and Sabé had a sinking feeling that he hadn't believed a single word she'd said.

"Perhaps your young princess will be more cooperative," he said, turning to leave.

Sabé clenched her jaw against a protest, knowing it was futile. He'd question Leia regardless, and Sabé couldn't let him know how much she cared for her.

Instead, she made herself comment flippantly to the door he locked behind him. "Are you just going to…leave me here?" she said, sighing heavily.

Alone, she listened to Vader's retreating footsteps, trying to roll her shoulders and ease her discomfort. She'd been left strung up as punishment, no doubt. She'd been expecting some kind of physical coercion, and he'd avoided it to keep her guessing, make her uneasy about what was coming next. She'd been trained to get through multiple types of interrogation, and she knew she'd just passed stage one. Stage two would be far less pleasant.

* * *

She wasn't sure how many hours or days had passed, only that her arms were completely numb when he returned. She'd been let down to use the small bucket-like contraption that she had in lieu of a fresher, and had been given a few sips of water by the guards, but her mouth was uncomfortably dry, and it had been nearly impossible to sleep. The thought that they could be giving Leia similar treatment made her blood boil.

Vader wasn't alone this time. He'd brought some kind of small, floating droid with him, a clinical-looking needle sticking out of an arm at its side.

"I've been vaccinated," Sabé informed him, finding strength in glib comments. She recognised an interrogation droid when she saw one. Swallowing hard, she wrestled with her fear. Interrogation droids were equipped with mind probes, and their success rate was astronomical. She was mentally strong, but she didn't trust her chances against such things.

"I hope you're feeling more accommodating now," Vader said in greeting.

"I've _been_ accommodating. It's not my fault that I don't have the information you want."

"I'm afraid we disagree on that point, Sabé. Last chance to tell me what you know of your own free will."

"If I could, I would," she said. "This isn't exactly comfortable."

An announcement echoed through the corridors. "Lord Vader, please report to hangar 42-P immediately."

Sabé breathed a silent sigh of relief, and his head turned towards her. "Don't relax just yet," he said. "I'm needed elsewhere, but the droid is not. It will record anything you say. Don't hold back."

With that, he swept out of the room, the stormtroopers in his wake. Sabé stared wide-eyed at the droid, the ominous buzz of its internal motors almost getting lost in the thud of her heartbeat in her ears. She watched as it floated forward, unable to do anything but stare in horror as the needle inched closer and closer to her skin.

* * *

 **A/N:** Apologies to those who dislike needles.


	39. Breakout

**A/N:** This chapter ended up really action-packed. Enjoy!

Also, there's some ANH dialogue in here that doesn't belong to me.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Nine – Breakout.**

Sabé clenched her teeth, squashing down her fear in record time as she felt the need to _act_. She gripped the strut her binders were fastened to, edging back as far as she could. With a grunt, she held on, kicking out with both feet and sending the droid spinning away. It crashed into the wall, but did not stop, coming around for another try. It wasn't sentient, and thankfully had no idea she was trying to attack it. It was just trying to complete its task as long as it was able.

Sabé regained her footing, backing up for another try. She missed, and the needle jabbed into her arm, dispensing half of the liquid in its syringe before her wild thrashing finally knocked it aside. Knowing she likely had mere seconds before the stuff took effect, she aimed herself again, managing a little hop backwards to give herself more momentum.

Her boot soles hit the droid squarely on its smooth hull, sending it shooting directly backwards. This time it hit the corner of one of the wall's girders before falling to the ground with a clunk, sparking gently.

Sabé sagged against her binders, breathing heavily. No one came to investigate the noise, and she thanked the Force for small mercies. She could feel the syringe's liquid burning its way through her body, dulling her senses to everything except the pain. Her mind felt fogged, yet she recalled things with perfect clarity.

She could hear herself screaming, and between those screams, she spilled out every secret she'd been keeping, simultaneously sobbing with relief that there was no one and nothing to hear them.

* * *

Somewhere along the way, she lost consciousness, slipping willingly into blissful nothingness while the poison's effect faded. She awoke grudgingly, unhappy about taking control of her aching limbs. Her throat was raw, and she tasted blood, deducing that she'd bitten her tongue or lip while under the influence of the drug.

She awoke because someone was trying to wake her. She realised the fact belatedly, cursing her dulled reflexes.

She let out a whimper as her hands were released from the binders, the circulation flooding back, bringing a fierce attack of pins and needles with it.

Gradually, other senses returned to her, and she realised someone was saying her name, someone who was resting a warm palm on her cheek. The pain lessened, perceptions sharpened, and then her eyes snapped open as everything else finally caught up.

"Obi-Wan!" She sat bolt upright, flinging her arms around him. "What are you _doing_ here? I told you not to look for us, it's dangerous!"

"And I was going to abide by your wishes," he told her, arms tightening around her waist, "reluctantly. But it seems the Force has other ideas."

Pulling back, she met his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Luke and I were on our way to Alderaan, but our ship was pulled here by a tractor beam. I had no idea you were here, but I sensed Leia as soon as we landed." He grimaced. "And then I felt your pain."

Sabé pressed a hand to his cheek, caressing with her thumb. "I'm fine. I took care of the droid, but not before it stabbed me with its syringe thing. Obi-Wan…I would have told them everything."

"It's not your fault," he said adamantly. "Mind probes are impossible to resist."

"Not for a Jedi. But anyway, I kicked it into the wall before the drug took hold, so it didn't record anything."

He nodded, placing a hand under her elbow. "Can you stand? We need to get going."

He helped her to her feet, and she winced, a few residual twinges of pain shooting through her body.

"I'm fine," she said, catching his concerned gaze. "Have you found Leia? Is she okay?"

"I haven't, but Luke has. I can sense them both." He peered out into the corridor before turning back and gently gripping her shoulders. "Sabé…where's Kira?"

"She's on a courier mission with Asher, she's fine. Why?"

A ripple of sorrow swept over his face. "Alderaan is…gone."

"Gone?" she repeated, struggling to comprehend. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Vaporised. By the Death Star."

Sabé felt the blood drain from her face. "Bail and Breha…" she said, already knowing the answer. "Gods…" She pushed her distress and anger aside for a more appropriate time, and gripped his sleeve. "Obi-Wan, we have to destroy this thing. Where's Artoo?"

"Not far from the ship, hopefully."

She blanched. "He's _here_?"

"There was no choice," Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly. "We have to go. We need to disable the tractor beam before we can escape. I made a detour to find you, but we must hurry now."

She nodded, taking the hand he offered and following him out of the interrogation room.

"Do you know where you're going?" she asked as they made their way out of the corridor.

"More or less."

"So reassuring," she teased him.

The look of false annoyance he sent her harkened back to his Padawan days, and she smiled at the memory.

Sabé had been trained to move quietly, and she deployed every skill in sneaking around the stormtroopers on guard duty. Obi-Wan, of course, was able to do the same, despite his long brown robe. Sabé realised it had been years since she'd seen him dressed as a Jedi. It almost looked strange to see him in neutral colours again. On Tatooine, he wouldn't stand out at all. The Jedi Order had dressed humbly for a reason, able to blend into crowds on multiple worlds. He still favoured military boots, she noticed, although those weren't an unusual sight either.

When they reached their destination, they ducked into an alcove, wary of the two troopers on duty.

"Wait here," Obi-Wan whispered, and she nodded.

She watched anxiously as he walked noiselessly behind them, stepping out onto a tiny platform to reach the tractor beam's power source, which was housed above a gap so dizzying, she was glad she couldn't see much of it from where she was. He wouldn't fall, she knew him well enough to be certain of that, but it still made her stomach flip to watch him.

A flick of his hand to distract the guards with a false noise, and he was back in the alcove with her.

"Nicely done," she hissed.

"Let's get back to the hangar."

As they moved through the corridors, Sabé spoke up about something that had been bothering her.

"Obi-Wan, you said you can sense that Luke and Leia are together," she began, keeping her voice low.

"Yes."

"Can Vader?"

The glance he sent her was mildly troubled. "I'm not sure. I would hope that my familiar presence will mask the twins, but I'd like to get us all off this station as quickly as possible."

"Definitely." There was still a long way to go before they were safely away, and she knew the chances of even making it that far were fairly low. "I'm glad you're here," she murmured.

He met her gaze, and she knew he understood everything she was saying and implying. He raised their clasped hands to his lips, kissing the back of her hand, and she managed a smile.

After countless more corridors, a few near-misses with officers and stormtroopers, Obi-Wan spoke up again.

"We're almost at the hangar, but…"

"What?"

He turned to her, looking intently into her face. "Vader is ahead. You should find another way around."

Sabé shook her head firmly. "No. We don't know if there _is_ another way around, and we're wasting time." He hesitated, clearly unsure, and she added gently, "It will be okay, love."

And it would. She believed that. She didn't want to leave Kira, but their daughter would be okay. Gregar would take care of her.

Finally Obi-Wan nodded, not happy but resigned. "All right. But, please…try and stay out of his way."

She nodded. "I will."

They pressed onwards. Obi-Wan let go of her hand, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and holding it in readiness. Sabé wished fervently that she had a weapon, even if it wouldn't do her much good against Vader.

He stood blocking their path, a ruby blade already ignited in his hand. Sabé halted, letting Obi-Wan continue walking a few steps ahead.

"I've been waiting for this," Vader said, advancing at a leisurely pace. "You should not have come here, my old master."

"I go where the Force wills me," Obi-Wan said calmly.

"Hm," Vader intoned. "So it was the Force's idea to spring an Imperial prisoner from the detention block."

"My destiny will always lead me to her," Obi-Wan said, plain, stated fact that, despite everything, made Sabé's heart flip. "But you never understood that, did you? You fell in love with a queen, and so you assumed that I should love a duchess over a handmaiden."

"Jedi know nothing of love," Vader growled.

"No, they did not. But I do, and they should have. I failed you, Anakin. I am sorry."

"That name means nothing now, old man," Vader said, aiming the tip of his lightsaber at Obi-Wan's chest.

"It does to me."

"Then you are weak and foolish."

He lunged forward at Obi-Wan's unguarded torso, but the blue blade was there to block the red at the last moment. Sabé hung back, watching with wide eyes as they tentatively sussed each other out after so many years. Obi-Wan had kept himself in good shape, but he'd had no one to spar with, and was unavoidably out of practice. Nothing could curb a lifetime of training and honed instincts, however, and he was able to keep up with Vader's quicker movements. Their battle took them further down the corridor, away from her, and she followed at a distance.

An Imperial officer turned out of a side-passage directly into her path, freezing the moment he saw her. His eyes narrowed, and she assumed he was trying to decide if she was authorised personnel or not. She made it easy for him, smashing the heel of her hand into his chin, sending him flying backwards. A solid kick rendered him unconscious, and she stooped to relieve him of his blaster, tucking it into her empty holster before dragging him behind some crates. A quick search yielded a comlink and small vibroblade. She tucked the comlink into the pouch on her belt and sheathed the blade in her boot.

Moving at a steady jog, she continued on towards the sound of clashing sabers. Vader and Obi-Wan had reached the end of the corridor, and were facing each other over crossed blades. Through the blast doors behind them, Sabé could see a hangar, and a battered ship that was definitely not an Imperial model. A squadron of stormtroopers stood guarding it.

Sabé glanced around, searching for a sign that would tell her their location. Finally, she spotted the information on the wall beside the doors. She pulled out her stolen comlink and thumbed the switch.

"This is maintenance in hangar 42-P," she said, pitching her voice low and scared. "Fugitives spotted in the north corridor, please send reinforcements."

"Roger, 42-P. We'll check it out."

As she watched, half of the stormtrooper squadron peeled away, running for the passageway on the far side of the hangar. She grinned, stepping out of her hiding place and inching closer to the doors, closer to the duelling warriors that stood between her and escape.

"I spent too many years as your student, Obi-Wan," Vader was saying, pressing an attack. "Now I am the master."

"A master of death and suffering," Obi-Wan responded, voice calm despite the signs of struggle on his face. He was starting to tire, Sabé could see it clear as day. Her heart leapt into her mouth. "Master of everything you fought to banish from the galaxy. Tell me, Anakin…was your revenge worth it?"

"You will _not_ call me by that name!" Vader roared.

At the yell and the clash of the blades, the troopers in the hangar were starting to take notice, edging their way over to see what was going on. Behind them, Sabé saw two familiar droids slip out of hiding and head for the ship. She darted forward a few steps, unsure how to get past Obi-Wan and Vader. She took a deep breath, knowing she had to try. She was of no help where she was.

As she moved, Obi-Wan moved with her, keeping Vader circling so that he was always as far from her as possible. But such a move wasn't subtle, and Vader noticed immediately. He flung out a hand, and Sabé found herself flying out of the corridor, past the stormtroopers, who scattered like frightened birds, hitting the floor hard.

 _Thank you_ , she thought with irony, although she'd been hoping for a less violent way of getting into the hangar.

She rolled, skidding on the shiny tiles until she pitched over the edge of the gaping elevator shaft in the floor. Grunting, she gripped the edge, stopping herself with a jolt. She risked a look down and saw nothing but darkness.

 _Surely that's a health and safety hazard,_ she thought idly.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Artoo perform a swift about-turn, zipping back the way he'd come while Threepio loudly questioned his actions.

She couldn't see much from where she hung, but she was sure the stormtroopers would be regrouping. She let go with her right hand, pulling out her blaster with gritted teeth. Moving quickly, she tossed the blaster up onto the edge, regaining her two-handed grip and hoisting herself up so that her elbows rested on the side. Everything still hurt from the interrogation droid, and she winced, feeling a muscle twinge in her shoulder.

 _I'm getting too old for this._

She shut the thought down at once. In the Order there was no such thing as 'too old'. There was only 'capable' and 'not capable', and she was still more than capable.

Clinging tight with her left arm, she picked up her blaster and opened fire, taking out three stormtroopers before being forced to drop back down for cover. A shot hit near her left hand, burning her fingers, and she let out a yell as her grip loosened. Slipping off, she fell, her eyes wide in alarm.

She hit the elevator with a brief exclamation of pain, realising quickly that she'd only fallen a mere ten feet or so. Artoo must have summoned it for her. Getting to her feet, she braced herself, leaping out of the pit as soon as the elevator brought her high enough, firing at the remaining troopers. Others started to fall around her, and she became aware of a party of newcomers joining in the fight from over by the ship. She saw Leia's white-clad figure among them, and breathed a sigh of relief.

A trooper scored a lucky hit, sending her blaster flying. Seizing the opportunity to do the unexpected, she sprinted towards him, leaping and kicking upwards. His rifle tumbled out of his hands. Sabé spun, catching him in the head, the heel of her boot connecting perfectly with the softer armour between his helmet and chest plate. The trooper fell heavily to the ground, and Sabé dropped to a crouch, blowing loose strands of hair out of her face. No doubt her bun was a disaster. The rest of the squad were down, taken out by the others.

She spotted back-up returning from the north corridor, where she'd sent them on a wild bantha chase. Looking over her shoulder, she shouted, "Leia! Get the doors!"

The princess pivoted immediately, firing at the panel and shutting off the reinforcements.

"Let's go!" an unfamiliar human man hollered, starting up the ramp of the ship.

Sabé turned her attention to the duel. Vader and Obi-Wan were at an impasse, blades crossed, a battle of strength to see who would break first.

"Obi-Wan!" she yelled.

She had intended to alert him, not distract him, and her jaw dropped as he took his eyes off his opponent and met her gaze, taking in the situation in the hangar in a glance. She saw him deliberate, knew exactly what he was thinking, and her blood froze.

"No," she whispered. "Not yet."

Even now, at what could very well be the end, she didn't want to influence his decisions, but she wasn't ready to let him go. They were supposed to have _time_ now.

Obi-Wan stepped back, deactivating his lightsaber, and Sabé felt the air rush out of her lungs. Vader raised his blade, preparing for the killing blow. As it began its deadly downward arc, Obi-Wan threw out both hands, and Vader went flying backwards. The tip of the blade, burned Obi-Wan's arm, and he let out a grunt, but took advantage of the precious seconds he'd bought himself and hurried for the blast doors.

Frantically, Sabé tossed an order over her shoulder. "The doors! Hit the doors!"

Someone shot out the panel, and the doors began to close. Obi-Wan leapt for it, diving through the gap, rolling and coming up on his feet, his injured arm tucked in close to his body.

"On board, people, now, move it!" came that unfamiliar human voice once more.

Sabé ignored him, not moving until Obi-Wan was level with her. They darted up the ramp together, and Sabé hit the panel on the bulkhead to close it behind them. They collapsed in a heap in the corridor, feeling the ship judder underneath them as it took off and headed out of the hangar.

Obi-Wan was breathing hard, a sheen of sweat lining his brow. The fight had taken its toll on him. Sabé shifted her weight, bringing up the hem of her dress to dab the moisture from his forehead.

"I thought…" she began.

He reached for her hand, and she dropped her handful of skirt. "I know," he said. "Sabé…if I fight him again, it will be the last time."

She knew from the way he'd said it that he would not be the victor. She accepted the thought with a reluctant nod, squashing down her dread. Destiny was destiny, she could not argue with it. He had promised her to accept it and keep going if she were to die first. The least she could do was make an attempt at doing the same, although without the benefit of Jedi training, it would be the hardest thing she'd ever had to do.

"Let's hope we have time before then," she said.

He managed the tiniest of attempted smiles, perhaps grateful that she understood that he was still bound by the will of the Force, lover or no.

She leaned in and kissed him, and he brushed his fingertips down her cheek.

The moment was broken by the clatter of footsteps and a yell. "Come on, buddy, we're not out of this yet!"

Sabé got to her feet, helping Obi-Wan to his, and they followed the sound of voices, just in time to see a sandy-haired young man in light-coloured clothing that looked to be designed for a warm climate. He was running for a nearby ladder, descending out of sight.

"Is that…?" Sabé asked.

"Yes."

She looked up at him, smiling, feeling oddly emotional. "They're both on the same ship," she whispered.

He laughed gently. "I know. It almost seems unreal. Come on, the cockpit is this way, if memory serves."

Memory did, and they entered the tiny space, seeing Leia in the pilot's seat next to an unfamiliar Wookiee. Leia shot them both a glance as they entered, each taking a seat behind.

"Master Obi-Wan, I'm very glad to see you," she greeted.

"Likewise, Your Highness."

"Are you hurt, Leia?" Sabé asked.

"No," the princess replied, her voice a little too taut for Sabé to fully believe her. "You?"

"No," she lied, shifting her aching limbs. Focus then caught by another matter, she frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, Leia, but why do you smell like you took a bath in a septic tank?"

"We took a scenic route to the ship," Leia explained matter-of-factly, "through the garbage disposal."

TIE fighters screamed across the viewport before Sabé could reply, and the ship banked and turned to avoid them, the Wookiee concentrating fiercely on the controls. Sabé saw a volley of laser fire tracking towards one, and realised that Luke and the other human man were returning fire from gun turrets.

"They're coming in too fast!" came a voice over the internal com.

Obi-Wan leaned forward in his seat. "Concentrate, Luke. Remember the remote."

Sabé sent him a questioning glance.

"Basic lightsaber training," he explained quietly.

Another fighter zipped past, and Leia frowned at her control panel. "We've lost lateral controls," she announced.

"Don't worry, she'll hold together," the other man said. Sabé assumed he was the pilot or co-pilot. "You hear me, baby? Hold together," he added in a low voice.

"We can still hear you," Leia snapped into the mic.

The Wookiee growled a comment. Sabé thought he agreed with Leia's sentiment.

A TIE passed by, trailed by laser fire, and promptly exploded.

"Got him!" Luke yelled. "I got him!"

"Great, kid!" the pilot retorted. "Don't get cocky."

Sabé eyed the expanse of space beyond the viewport, wondering when the reinforcements would turn up.

"It's too quiet out there," she murmured, and Leia half turned in her direction, nodding in agreement. "It's not like they don't have the ships to send."

Obi-Wan said nothing, but he wore an expression of mild concern.

"There are still two more of them out there," Leia informed the gunners.

A short time later, some well-placed shots had the TIE fighters in pieces, and Luke gave a triumphant shout over the com.

"That's it! We did it!"

The Wookiee rumbled what sounded like a question, and Leia answered him as such.

"We need to get to Yavin 4."

He nodded, plotting the route and taking the ship into hyperspace. Obi-Wan leaned to pat him on the shoulder.

"Nice flying, my friend."

The Wookiee turned to growl something at him. It sounded amiable.

"This is Chewbacca," Obi-Wan introduced. "He's co-pilot of this ship."

"You're sitting in my seat," came a voice from behind them.

Sabé turned to see two human men. One she knew to be Luke, but she would have guessed that. He looked very much like Anakin, although she saw plenty of Padmé in his face too. He was a good-looking lad, but she supposed that was inevitable, considering his parentage. Like Leia, he'd been doomed from the start.

The other man was older by ten years or so, good-looking too in a roguish sort of way. He had a cocky attitude that screamed out of every pore, and Sabé would have pegged him for a bounty hunter had he not been so casually dressed.

Leia rolled her eyes and slipped out of the pilot's chair, and Sabé offered up her own, moving to stand beside Obi-Wan. The pilot squeezed between them all to get to his seat, smirking at Leia as he did so. She sighed heavily.

"This is Han Solo," Obi-Wan said, offering no additional information. Sabé wasn't entirely sure that he didn't do it on purpose. "My wife, Sabé."

Sabé smiled. She couldn't remember the last time he'd been free to introduce her as such. She liked how it sounded.

"Wife, huh?" Han Solo said, lying an arm across the top of his chair so he could turn and face them all. "And how the hell does your wife end up in the middle of an Imperial space station?"

"Don't mind him," Luke spoke up, drawing Sabé's attention. "I'm glad Ben was able to rescue you."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. You must be Luke."

"I guess Ben must have mentioned me."

"Once or twice," she said, smile widening.

"Are you hurt, Master Obi-Wan?" Leia asked, noticing Obi-Wan's injured arm.

"A minor burn. It can wait."

Chewbacca let out a series of growls, lumbering to his feet and heading out of the cockpit.

"Yeah, okay, Chewie," Han said. "Make sure nothing's on fire."

Leia sat up straighter, immediately commanding the small room. "We need to make plans," she announced. "Our escape was too easy, which means that they must be tracking us."

Han scoffed. "Not this ship, sister. You call that easy?"

"Considering they probably had hundreds of TIEs at their disposal that they didn't send after us, yes, I do."

"But the droids are safe?" Sabé asked.

"Yes," Leia confirmed. "Thank the Force."

"What's so important?" Han asked, sounding interested despite himself. "What's he carrying?"

"The technical readouts of that battle station," Leia told him, and he actually looked stunned for a moment. "I only hope that when the data is analysed, a weakness can be found."

"Is that possible?" Luke asked, wide-eyed.

"Our information says it is," Leia said with a nod.

If Jyn Erso had been telling the truth, her father had designed the thing with the flaw built into it. Sabé didn't think the courageous young woman had any reason to lie, but they would know when they saw for themselves.

"The question is," said Obi-Wan gravely, "where do we go now? I assume we can't access the information without the proper equipment, but if we fly to the rebel base, we'll lead the Empire right to it."

"Exactly," Leia said, meeting his gaze. "What would you advise, Master Jedi?"

"What do _your_ instincts say?" he asked her, his warm tone indicating that nothing she said would be a wrong answer.

She considered for a long moment. Not even Han, who seemed an impatient sort, interrupted her. Luke watched the interactions with undisguised fascination, and Sabé knew for sure that Obi-Wan had another student.

"We need to access the information," Leia stated. "And there's nowhere else to go. Not…not anymore." She gave into her sorrow for a mere second before recovering her composure. "We have to go to the rebels and hope that we can put a plan together before the Death Star catches up."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I would agree. How quickly does it move?"

"It came out of hyperspace above Scarif," Sabé recalled. "But considering its size, I would guess it moves slower than a Star Destroyer."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and she made a mental list of everything she had to catch him up on.

"Chewie already set a course for Yavin 4," Han pointed out, looking at his console.

"I told him to," Leia said. "It seemed wise to get a head start, regardless of what we decided." She shrugged. "It's not over yet."

"It is for me, sister," Han said dismissively, and Leia glared at him. "Look, I ain't in this for your revolution, and I'm not in it for you, Princess. I expect to be well paid! I'm in it for the money."

Sabé pursed her lips, looking to Obi-Wan and noting that he seemed rather amused. Leia, however, looked disgusted.

"You needn't worry about your reward," she said, voice cold and falsely polite. "If money is all that you love, then that's what you'll receive." With that, she rose to her feet and stormed out of the cockpit.

A bewildered Luke stood back to let her pass, glancing at Han. Sabé thought he seemed disappointed. Perhaps he'd hoped for more from the pilot.

Sabé cleared her throat. "Do you have a medkit I can use, Captain?"

Han waved an arm vaguely at the doorway. "Yeah, back in the main hold. Chewie'll show you."

She nodded her thanks and turned to Obi-Wan. "I want to look at that burn," she said.

"It's not serious, Sabé," he told her, the twinkle in his eye reminding her of past times when he'd half-heartedly tried to stop her fussing over his injuries.

"You always say that, and I always ignore you."

"True. Makes me wonder why I bother."

They exchanged smiles, and he dutifully stood to follow her.


	40. The Battle of Yavin

**A/N:** Why hello there, super generic title. Haven't seen one of those in a while. (Although to be fair, it is an _accurate_ title...)

* * *

 **Chapter Forty – The Battle of Yavin.**

Things were quiet on board the _Millennium Falcon_ as it flew through hyperspace. Han and Chewbacca were in the cockpit, the former seemingly unwilling to share space with Leia after she had lectured him. The droids were elsewhere. Sabé wasn't sure what they were up to, but she could faintly hear Threepio's voice as he chattered away to Artoo.

After accepting the medkit from Chewbacca, Sabé sat Obi-Wan down and ordered him out of his robe. He complied with a look of affectionate long-suffering, which she promptly ignored, tugging up the sleeves of his tunic and undershirt. She worked with methodical care, keeping half an eye on Leia, who sat in silence at the games table. Sabé was familiar with her moods, knowing when the princess wished to be left alone, but she wasn't convinced that that was what was needed this time.

Before she could finish up and check on her, however, Luke entered the hold, sliding onto the curved bench beside Leia's sullen figure.

"I'm sorry about Alderaan," he said quietly.

"Thank you," Leia replied. Outwardly, she was composed, but Sabé knew she was holding back. She had to, while there was still so much at stake.

"I lost my family too," Luke went on. "My aunt and uncle, my life on Tatooine. I know it's not the same, but…I'm just saying I know a little of what you're feeling."

Leia's expression softened at the show of empathy. "I'm sorry for your loss. Do you have anyone else?"

Luke shook his head. "Ben's a neighbour, and he knew my father, but…no, not really."

Sabé met Obi-Wan's gaze as she dabbed salve on his burn, her expression asking the inevitable question. He shook his head minutely. It wasn't time.

"What about you?" Luke was asking.

"I lost my parents, my friends, and my planet," Leia said, her voice cracking just a fraction. "But I've got friends and allies in the rebellion. And I have Sabé. She's practically family."

Sabé kept her head lowered, pretending she couldn't hear as much as she could. Obi-Wan appeared to be doing the same, his eyes firmly fixed on her work.

"You know Ben too? Obi-Wan, I mean."

"I met him quite a few times while I was growing up," Leia told him. "He'd come to see Sabé every three years or so."

Luke lowered his voice, but Sabé could still make out his words.

"Why weren't they together? I mean, it's obvious they really care about each other."

"I don't know," Leia said. "But the Jedi always have their reasons."

Sabé finished tying off the dressing she'd wrapped around Obi-Wan's forearm, tugging his sleeves back into place.

"Reminds me of when I treated your bruises after Maul and Oppress," she reflected, putting the cap back on the salve.

"I think I've changed a bit since then," Obi-Wan said dryly.

"You look the same to me," she said, "clothes and everything. Bit more grey in your hair, perhaps."

He let out a quiet laugh. His hair was almost entirely silver now, with just a few threads of the sandy-red remaining. His eyes, however, were as vibrant and full of charm as they had ever been.

"Whereas you barely have any," he remarked.

"Oh, I do," Sabé argued, pulling the pins from her disastrous bun and shaking her hair out. She combed her fingers through it, showing him the streaks of silver amongst the brown.

"Like I said, barely any."

Sabé smiled, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and braiding it with quick, expert fingers.

Over at the games table, Luke and Leia were talking quietly, speaking of Han if the furtive glances in the direction of the cockpit were anything to go by. Obi-Wan watched them for a moment, then got to his feet and crossed the room towards them.

"How's your arm?" Leia asked him.

"Better, thank you. How are you?"

It was a heavier question than it sounded, and she seemed to know that, face closing off a touch.

"I'll be fine."

Obi-Wan slid onto the seat, facing them both over the table. Sabé watched while she packed away the medkit, still finding it hard to believe that Padmé's twins were together again, and right in front of her.

"Leia," Obi-Wan began, his voice taking on the calm, no-nonsense tones of a Jedi Master, "you cannot keep this locked away."

"I have to. At least until we've dealt with the Death Star."

"Yes," he agreed, "there are more appropriate times for grief. But it doesn't do to ignore it. Accept that it's there, accept that it hurts, then set it aside until you can deal with it properly."

Leia shook her head adamantly. "I can't. If I acknowledge it…"

"You already _have_ acknowledged it by locking it away. If you simply ignore it, it will continue to chip away at your conscience."

She looked unsure, afraid to try, but she nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You too, Luke," Obi-Wan said.

Luke seemed set to protest, but changed his mind, copying Leia. Sabé set the medkit back on its shelf and leaned against the bulkhead, arms folded as she watched.

"Feel the Force swirling around you," Obi-Wan said in a soothing tone. "Let it in, let it help."

Sabé smiled, silently leaving them to it. She decided to explore the ship, which didn't take long, although she found Artoo doing minor repairs while Threepio supervised.

"Once an astromech, always an astromech, right?"

He whistled cheerily.

"Was it you who raised the elevator when I nearly fell down that shaft?" she asked.

Artoo emitted a series of beeps, and Threepio translated. "It was. He says he was also able to prevent further reinforcements by moving the lift."

"Thank you." She let out a quiet laugh, struck by memory. "At least I get to thank you as myself this time."

 _Thank you, Artoo-Detoo. Padmé, clean this droid up as best you can. It deserves our gratitude_.

She smiled, remembering the surreal feeling of ordering her monarch to clean a droid. Not that Padmé had ever minded manual tasks.

Artoo beeped a response.

"He says he remembers the first time well," Threepio told her. "Although to be frank, I don't know what he's talking about."

Sabé patted his metal shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Threepio," she said, moving on.

Obi-Wan found her when he was done teaching the twins, and they spent the rest of the journey catching each other up on what had happened. He told her how Maul had discovered him a few years previously, how they'd fought, but his former adversary had been weakened by time and madness, and the battle had been over quickly. This time, the vengeful menace was gone for good. Sabé was relieved to hear it. Maul had been a lingering threat ever since he'd killed Duchess Satine, and despite his disappearance in the years that followed, they'd always expected him to surface again. There had been no pull to the darkness for Obi-Wan this time, only calm resolve. Sabé was relieved to hear that too.

When Obi-Wan got on to more recent events, Sabé was alarmed to learn of Owen and Beru's deaths at the hands of the stormtroopers who'd gone searching for the droids. Coupled with the deaths of Bail and Breha, it seemed almost as if the Force had had no more use for the people who'd raised Luke and Leia now that they'd reached maturity. It felt almost callous.

"I had no idea about Alderaan," Sabé said, after Obi-Wan told her how they'd dropped out of hyperspace into the middle of a new asteroid field. "I didn't know much of anything strung up in that room."

She made a mental note to talk to Leia about her experiences. Interrogation was not something to be shrugged off lightly.

"The Empire wanted to send a message to the galaxy," Obi-Wan said. "I'd say they've probably succeeded. If the rebels don't find a weakness in the Death Star, all support for the rebellion will drop. Systems will be too scared to act."

Sabé hummed in agreement, sighing. "Do you remember when Senator bloody Daedrin was the biggest of our worries? I almost miss those days."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "He _was_ rather annoying."

They fell into reflective silence, then something occurred to Sabé that had her sitting up straighter in alarm.

"I told Kira to fly straight home when she was done with her mission," she reported. "What if the same thing happens to her? She finds the asteroid field and gets caught in a tractor beam?"

"I'm sure the story has broken on the HoloNet," he assured her. "She'll know to stay away. And if she somehow misses it, the Death Star will be setting course for Yavin soon anyway."

Sabé nodded, seeing the sense in his words. Her heartrate slowed to a less frantic rhythm. "I don't even know when she's due back. I lost track of the days in there."

"Does she know where the rebel base is?"

"No, but Asher does. I'm sure they'll make their way there."

* * *

They all piled into the cockpit when Han announced their arrival at Yavin 4. Sabé and Obi-Wan took the chairs behind Han and Chewbacca, while Luke and Leia opted to stand at the back. As the ship started to descend towards the vibrant green moon, Leia leaned forward between the seats.

"What are you doing?" Han asked her, sounding scandalised that she was touching the control panel without his permission.

"Alerting them to our identity so they don't shoot us down," she retorted, adjusting the frequency. "Come in Massassi Outpost, this is Princess Leia Organa."

"We're receiving you, Princess," a man said warmly. "It's very good to hear your voice."

"Thank you, General. I'm in a small Corellian freighter. We should be landing in approximately twelve minutes."

"Copy that. Base out."

Leia stepped back from the console, and they all watched as Han and Chewbacca navigated down towards the seemingly-endless jungle. Luke leaned forward to get a better look.

"Are those trees? There are so many of them."

Han sent him a bewildered glance. "Yeah, kid," he said incredulously. "What, you never get off of Tatooine before?"

"No," Luke said. "Though not for lack of trying."

Leia was eyeing him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy, and Sabé wondered whether Luke would accept a few lessons in galaxy general knowledge.

The rebels had set up their base of operations in the huge, abandoned Massassi Temples that had once belonged to an extinct warrior race. Although it was much larger in scale, something about its design reminded Sabé of the Order Temple back on Naboo. She hadn't had much opportunity to admire it when they'd come to meet about the Scarif mission, but she got an impressive view as the _Falcon_ came in to land in the courtyard in front of it.

A small crowd had gathered to welcome them. It wasn't surprising. With the fate of Raddus's ship and then Alderaan, Leia's whereabouts had probably been a topic of serious concern. Not to mention the success of Jyn Erso's mission.

They had barely stepped off the ramp when someone barrelled through the onlookers, sprinting full-tilt towards them.

"Mama! Papa!"

Sabé halted, Obi-Wan at her side, and they opened their arms to their daughter. Kira threw hers around them both, and they hugged her close.

"Kira, are you okay?" Sabé asked her, feeling overwhelmingly relieved to see her, even with the looming threat of the Death Star.

"I'm fine. I was so worried though. I heard about Alderaan. Is it really gone?"

"I'm afraid so," Obi-Wan said, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

She moved back to look up at him. "I'm really glad you're here, Papa."

He smiled, smoothing her unruly dark hair. "So am I."

"Things are different now," Sabé told her. "This time, we're staying together."

Kira smiled widely. "You promise?"

"Yes, dear one," Obi-Wan assured her.

Sabé hugged her family again, then broke away to greet Asher, who stood not far off.

"Thank you, my friend," she said warmly.

He sent her a smile. "It's no problem. You know I'm fond of her. She's a good kid."

Sabé nodded in agreement. "She is, although I have to stop thinking of her that way. When I was her age I was already a fully-trained Order of Sanctuary warrior, two years away from becoming decoy queen."

He grinned. "Well, speaking as her most debonair uncle figure, I can say that she's well on her way to following in your footsteps."

"I'm not sure if that's flattering or alarming."

Obi-Wan and Kira caught up with them, and the two men exchanged greetings. Leia was standing with Artoo, speaking urgently with Commander Willard while Threepio flanked her. Han and Chewie hovered nearby, Luke standing with them with a touch of awkwardness. Sabé imagined it was all very new and strange for him.

When Leia and Willard moved to go inside, everyone filed in behind them. Obi-Wan received a lot of stares, and Sabé saw a lot of rebels discreetly whispering to each other. Many people, especially the older ones, recognised him, if not Obi-Wan himself, then the robes he was wearing.

Leia and Willard met up with a man Sabé only knew by sight; General Dodonna, who had commanded the largest rebel cell before they all formed the Alliance. As Leia explained Artoo's situation to him, most of the gathered crowd drifted away, no doubt having jobs to do. Dodonna handed Artoo to the technicians, then led Leia away to discuss what had happened. Han followed her, most likely to remind her about his reward, and Chewbacca trailed after them.

The rest of the group moved in the same direction, and Sabé fell into step beside Luke. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said, offering her a tentative smile. He'd accepted Obi-Wan as his mentor figure, and therefore was treating her with the utmost respect. "I know terrible things have happened, but…I'm still pretty glad to have made it here."

"The Force has a strange way of guiding people where they're supposed to be."

He sent her a sidelong glance. "Do you believe in it too? The Force?"

"Let's just say I've been thoroughly converted over the years," she told him with a smile. "I remember the Jedi in their heyday. Their abilities were undeniable. It's difficult not to be convinced that their power comes from a mystical energy source."

"I wish I could have seen them."

A voice cut through their conversation. "Aunt Sabé?"

She turned, eyes widening. "Good gods, Leith!" she exclaimed. "Is that really you?"

He grinned. "Yeah, 'fraid so."

She recalled the eight-year-old he'd been when they'd last seen each other, and tried to reconcile the image with the tall, strapping seventeen-year-old in front of her. He wore the orange flightsuit of a rebel pilot, and had his helmet tucked under his arm.

"Well now I feel _really_ old," she remarked, stepping forward to give him a quick hug.

He looked a lot like Gregar had when she'd first met him, but a little less stocky, and a touch fairer skinned. She saw Padmé in his eyes and jaw line, and he'd inherited her charming smile. He wore his mop of curly dark brown hair longer than Gregar ever had, but it suited him.

"Is your father here?" she asked him.

"Yes. I'm sure he'll find you when he hears you're back."

Sabé became aware of Luke's envious glance, fixed on the pilot's helmet under Leith's arm.

"This is Luke," she announced, feeling very much aware of the strangeness of introducing two half-brothers who were completely unaware of their connection. "He's a new recruit from Tatooine. He helped rescue Princess Leia from the Death Star."

Leith looked impressed, as she'd hoped, and Luke smiled humbly. Leith reached out, and they shook hands.

"Good to have you here. Can you fly?"

"A little bit," Luke said. "I'm a fast learner."

Leith nodded. "Good. We're going to need all the help we can get."

"I want to help where I can."

Sabé looked between them. They did not really look alike, which wasn't surprising considering how different their fathers were, but there was enough Padmé in each of them for her to notice a few similarities. Obi-Wan and Kira came to join her, the former sending her a significant glance.

"Leith, do you remember my husband and daughter?" Sabé asked.

"I remember you, sir," he said, nodding to Obi-Wan. Then he sent Kira a little apologetic look. "But you…not really, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, shrugging. "You'd just lost your mom. I probably wasn't old enough to be sensitive about it, so…"

He smiled. "If I don't remember it, you can't have been that bad."

She returned the smile, and Leith looked back at Luke. "If you want, I can take you to meet the other pilots?"

"Thanks."

With a few parting words, the two of them headed off, leaving Obi-Wan to send Sabé a knowing smile. Unfortunately, Kira was observant enough to notice it.

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing for you to worry about," Obi-Wan assured her.

"Uh-huh," she intoned sceptically, making him chuckle. "I'm not a kid anymore, Papa. You can trust me with things."

"It's not a matter of trust," Sabé said. "It's a matter of time. And right now, we need to think about the Death Star."

At that, Kira's mouth flattened in a grim line. She didn't look afraid. Perhaps because she'd never seen the thing.

"You're not evacuating me," she stated firmly. "You just promised me we'd stay together, and I don't have anywhere to go anyway."

Sabé exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan. He shrugged.

"In Naboo terms, she's an adult," he pointed out. "She can make her own decisions."

Sabé had spent many of her teenage years in danger's path, but it was much more difficult to accept that her daughter might do the same. Above all things, though, she knew she couldn't smother her, however much she might want to protect her. She had to let Kira be her own person.

She nodded. "All right. We stay together."

* * *

The information that Jyn Erso's Rogue One squadron had retrieved was analysed in record time. Thankfully, due to Jyn's pitch before the mission to Scarif, they knew exactly what they were looking for, and soon all the pilots and high-ranking officers were gathered to look at the plans.

Sabé and Obi-Wan stood at the back with Kira, and Sabé was interested to note that Han and Chewbacca were also there. Han had yet to receive his reward, but she saw some genuine interest in his face as they watched the presentation. His expression indicated that he thought they were all insane, but he listened keenly anyway.

Leia stood at the front with Dodonna and Willard, and Sabé spotted Luke's sandy head next to Leith's dark one amongst the seated pilots. She felt her heart clench knowing that Padmé's children were all together for the first time. She was certain that her friend would be proud.

The pilots gave mixed reactions to the news that they would have to fly one-person ships up close to the surface of the Death Star in order to hit a target that was barely two metres across. Some shook their heads in disbelief, while others seemed optimistic, but none of them backed down. When they stood to go and ready their ships, Luke stood with them.

Han was given his money and advised to leave before the Death Star's arrival. He seemed to be taking the advice to heart, much to Luke's disgust. Leia seemed unsurprised, and wholly unimpressed.

The Kenobis joined Leia in the war room, where she and Kira were finally able to exchange a hug of greeting. Leia had remained fond of her handmaiden's daughter throughout the years, but it was only as Kira grew older that their friendship had started to take a more equal turn.

Battles were always tense, but Sabé had never experienced one from an observer's point of view. It made her feel helpless, which was a sensation she really didn't care for, and she was very much aware that she had people she didn't want to lose amongst the pilots. Luke and Leith were both flying X-wings in Red Squadron, and Asher was piloting a Y-wing with Gold Squadron.

Those on the ground listened to the pilots' chatter as they took off to face the monstrosity that had dropped out of hyperspace on the other side of Yavin Prime. The huge gas giant was all that stood between the rebel base and the Death Star's laser, and it didn't give the squadrons much time to enact their plan. Luke had quickly made a few friends amongst the pilots, and they worked well as a team, watching out for each other, coming to each other's aid when needed.

Sabé stood around the table with Leia, Obi-Wan, Kira, Dodonna and Willard, all of them fixated on the holographic map that was projected on the table's surface. They watched the colour-coded dots that represented their pilots zipping around, wincing every time one winked out.

Across the table, Sabé saw a painfully familiar figure enter the room, and despite everything, her face lit up. Breaking away, she hurried to meet him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Nine years, Gregar," she scolded him lightly. "Nine years, and you turn up again just in time for us all to die?"

"Please stop, your optimism is crushing me," he retorted dryly.

She drew back and they grinned at each other, forgetting, just for a moment, the tense situation. His hair was almost entirely grey, pure white at his temples, but it suited him. There were a few more lines in his face than she remembered.

"You look good," she told him. "Distinguished."

He gave an amused scoff. "If you say so. You've barely changed at all."

"Either you're lying, or you've grown short-sighted."

"I'll let you figure out which," he said, smirking at her. "It's really good to see you."

"You too. I saw Leith, he remembered me. I can't believe how tall he is!"

Gregar smiled proudly. "He's a good kid. Not a kid anymore, I know, but he'll always be _my_ kid." He looked towards the table and the others, and his smile gave way to a hint of concern. "He's a good pilot, but…gods, I wish he wasn't up against that thing."

Sabé nodded understandingly. "From what I've heard over the com, he's good at keeping out of trouble."

The war room echoed with the base's intercom. "Death Star in range in five minutes."

Sabé and Gregar looked at each other, all traces of lightness gone. Together, they returned to the table, and Gregar clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder in greeting. Sabé noticed him glance casually at Leia, and he smiled a touch at what he saw.

The pilots' chatter had increased in urgency as they felt their time slipping away, and some of the younger ones were starting to sound panicked. Sabé recognised Luke's voice, edgy but in control, and Leith's, much the same.

"What did I miss?" she whispered.

"The Empire has sent out TIE fighters," Kira hissed back. "They've taken out a lot of our people. Asher was hit. I think he's okay, but he's gone radio silent."

They all listened in tense silence as Red Leader made an attack run but failed to hit his target. With barely a minute before the station was in range, Luke set up to make a run of his own, flanked by Leith, and two other pilots named Wedge and Biggs. The TIE leader and his wingmen pursued them intensely, taking out Biggs and damaging Wedge's ship to the point where he had to withdraw.

"It's Vader," Obi-Wan murmured, drawing the attention of those within hearing range.

Leia eyed him anxiously, then stared back at the map. Sabé looked to Obi-Wan. He was frowning, concentrating intently, but he didn't look overly worried. Still, Sabé put an arm around her daughter's shoulders.

With seconds to go, Luke was determinedly locked on his course, Leith distracting the TIEs as best as he could without getting shot to pieces. Their specks on the map were drawing closer and closer to the exhaust port that was their target.

"His computer's off," one of the technicians reported, looking at his console. "Luke, you switched off your targeting computer, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Luke said confidently. "I'm all right."

Obi-Wan smiled, and Sabé wondered what he knew.

"I'm hit!" Leith reported, and Gregar cringed. "It's not bad but I can't take much more."

"Get out of there, Leith!" Luke ordered him.

"No way!"

"Gods damn it, Leith," Gregar said under his breath, gripping the table hard in agitation.

But Leith's light peeled away from Luke's, and they watched its progress. The TIEs didn't follow him, rightly mindful of the danger Luke's attack run posed. Leith swept back around, and one of Vader's wingmen disappeared.

"Got one!" Leith announced. "I've lost my guns, though, I've gotta get clear."

His light moved in wide arc away from Luke's, and Gregar exhaled.

"I've lost Artoo!" Luke yelled.

The intercom cut across. "The Death Star has cleared the planet. The Death Star has cleared the planet."

Kira tightened her grip on her waist, and Sabé looked at Obi-Wan. He met her gaze, tense, but still not alarmed. She found comfort in his look.

On the map, the light representing Vader's one remaining wingman flickered out. A whoop over the com had them all blinking in confusion. Vader's TIE suddenly veered away at an erratic angle, leaving Luke alone on the map.

"You're all clear, kid!" came Han's voice. "Now let's blow this thing and go home!"

Leia looked up in surprise.

"Get clear!" Leith said urgently.

All remaining lights on the map turned sharply and started heading away. Then the outline of the Death Star blinked out, leaving the map blank. Sabé stared at it for a moment, letting out the breath she'd been holding.

"Great shot, kid, that was one in a million!" Han yelled excitedly.

Leia backed away from the table. "I need to see it," she muttered, marching for the exit.

Everyone followed her, and crowds of rebels flocked out of the temple to squint at the sky, where the remnants of the huge explosion were plainly visible in the daylight. The air filled with cheers, and the heavy cloud of impending doom lifted as if it had never been. Everyone grouped up in celebratory hugs, and Sabé stood in a circle with Obi-Wan, Kira and Gregar, their arms around each other. Obi-Wan had never really been one for celebratory hugs, but he accepted it with good grace, perhaps aware that he couldn't avoid it.

"Did you know?" Sabé asked him, leaning close to his ear to be heard over the noise. "Did you know Luke was going to be the one?"

"I had a feeling. I knew when he switched off his targeting computer."

"The Force?"

"The Force was his ally today," he said. "And now it's time to tell him the truth."

* * *

 **A/N:** For those of you wondering who replaced Obi-Wan in telling Luke to trust in the Force during the run, I don't address it in the forthcoming chapters because there wasn't an opportunity, but I imagine it was either Qui-Gon, or Obi-Wan was able to project his voice from the war room. You decide :)


	41. Know the Past, Look to the Future

**A/N:** This chapter makes references to the Rebels TV show.

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-One – Know the Past, Look to the Future.**

The pilots came home to a hero's welcome, and the celebration continued long into the night. Luke was constantly surrounded by well-wishers and new friends, and Leia was so delighted she even willingly hugged Han. Leith was greeted by his proud and very relieved father, and Sabé was pleased to note that Asher was also safe. Nobody forgot the lives that had been lost, and their fallen comrades were saluted and honoured as the evening wore on.

Sabé and Obi-Wan retreated early, leaving the young people to it. They left Kira, knowing she'd be all right under Leia's watchful eye. The quarters they were given were basic, but comfortable enough, and they both relished the time to be alone together after everything that had happened.

The following morning, Sabé, Obi-Wan and Gregar made their way to the war room where Leia, Willard and Dodonna were planning a quick memorial service and a subsequent evacuation. The Death Star was gone, but Obi-Wan was certain that Vader had survived, and Yavin 4 would not be safe once he reappeared. He was also certain that Palpatine had never been aboard the station, perhaps had never had the chance. No doubt Vader would creep back to him and regroup.

Leia was talking to a rebel soldier, who saluted her as they approached and turned to go. His eyes drifted over their group casually, then snapped back, and Sabé assumed he was staring at Obi-Wan, but then he spoke.

"Excuse me, are you…Syrena Simmonite?"

Brow furrowed she turned to him. It had been a long time since she'd been addressed as that by a stranger. "Uh…yes, sort of."

The man beamed. He looked to be in his early twenties, golden haired with a neat beard, and very familiar eyes. Just as the pieces were starting to fit together, he confirmed it for her.

"I'm Corin. Your nephew."

Sabé's jaw dropped. "Oh gods, you are, aren't you? Look at you! You can't possibly remember me."

"No, I'm afraid not," he said, looking genuinely regretful. "But my mother told me all about you, and I've seen holo-portraits."

"How is my sister?" Sabé asked him. It hadn't been safe to contact Idriel often, and she'd not had any news for some time.

"She's well," Corin told her with a smile. "She and Papa have retired to the Lake Country. After we lost Grandfather…oh…" He trailed off, wincing. "I'm sorry, did you know?"

"I didn't," Sabé said. "But it's all right. How long ago?"

"Seven years now. It was very sudden, but he went peacefully."

"That's good." She felt a pang of sadness, but it was distant. It had been a long time since she'd seen her father, and they hadn't been particularly close. "What about my mother?"

"She's fine, she still lives in the house in Theed. Mother tried to persuade her to come and live with us, but she refused. She says she likes it there."

Sabé smiled, surprisingly glad to hear that Luma hadn't changed.

Corin echoed her smile. "Mother reported everything you ever wrote in your letters, so they always knew you were okay."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, a little taken aback by just _how_ glad. She'd missed her family more than she'd realised. She became aware of her companions standing politely by, and stood back to make introductions. "This is my husband, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Gregar Typho who used to be Senator Amidala's chief of security."

Corin shook hands. He gave Gregar a respectful nod, but spoke to Obi-Wan. "Are you the Jedi? I've heard my grandparents talk about you."

"I'm sure you have," Obi-Wan commented wryly. It seemed he recalled that early meeting with Jago and Luma as clearly as she did, where their marriage hadn't been announced in the way she'd planned.

Corin grinned knowingly. "I don't think my grandmother will ever come around," he said, "but I'm sure Aunt Syrena knew what she was doing."

"Thank you," Sabé said.

The sound of approaching footsteps preceded Kira's arrival. "Morning. Sorry, I overslept."

"I'm not surprised," Obi-Wan said with an amused smile.

Kira smiled sheepishly. She wouldn't be the only one oversleeping after the party. Sabé was sure there were more than a few sore heads.

"Kira, this is your cousin, Corin," Sabé introduced. "My sister Idriel's son."

Kira had heard about her family back on Naboo, of course, but Sabé could tell from her expression that she'd never expected to meet any of them. She extended a polite hand regardless.

"Nice to meet you."

Corin didn't look overly surprised either, and Sabé was grateful that her message announcing Kira's birth had reached her sister.

"Nice to meet you too. I hope we can get to know each other before the Empire attacks us all."

Kira snorted at his remark, which sounded a lot like something she would have said herself. Sabé was strangely pleased that Corin had grown up with the family sense of humour. She was also pleased that Kira would have someone else looking out for her if anything were to happen to herself or Obi-Wan.

"Did you fly in the battle?" Kira asked.

"Yes, in Gold Squadron," he answered. Turning to Sabé he added, "My mother doesn't approve of my being here, but I wanted to fight back. She says I take after you."

"She may be right," Sabé said, offering him a smile. "I'm glad to see you, Corin, but we've held you up long enough."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, I should get on before I'm demoted. I'll see you all later."

They said their goodbyes and let him continue on his way.

Obi-Wan turned to his daughter. "Kira, can you find Luke and Leith? We need to speak to you all."

Kira frowned a touch, perhaps sensing the serious tone, but nodded. "I'll be back."

The elder three continued into the war room, walking up to Leia and waiting for her to finish her conversation. She wore a simple white shirt, and trousers tucked into boots, a blaster at her side. Sabé had insisted on sending a trunk of clothes to the base and to all of Bail's large ships, just in case. It was what they'd done for Padmé back on Naboo, and Sabé was determined that Leia would keep up the same standard, even if her choices of outfit were vastly different from Padmé's. She suspected Leia was grateful for her 'over-organising' now.

Leia had braided her long hair and wound it around her head in a crown. But for the regal way she carried herself, she could have just been another rebel operative. Sabé inwardly smiled. She was a princess who hated to rely on her title, preferring to earn respect. It was an admirable trait.

Leia and Dodonna glanced up as they approached, the former smiling in greeting.

"We need to discuss some things with you," Sabé spoke up. "Can you come?"

"The princess is very busy," Dodonna said dismissively. "We're trying to coordinate a full-scale evacuation here."

"We understand that, sir," Gregar said, "but this is important."

"All of this is important, Commander Typho," Dodonna told him.

Obi-Wan spoke with quiet authority. "It regards the revival of the Jedi Order."

At that, Dodonna hesitated, looking between Obi-Wan and Leia. Sabé could tell from his expression that he dearly wanted to ask how Leia related to the Jedi, but he didn't dare.

Leia stepped forward, as she'd probably intended to do all along. "We can speak in my quarters. They've… _insisted_ on giving me a room with a sitting area." She did nothing to hide her apparent annoyance at the preferential treatment.

They followed her through the temple, and Sabé commed Kira to let her know where to find them. Before long, the others had joined them, and they all stood in Leia's little reception room.

"We've asked the four of you here because there are things you need to know," Obi-Wan began. "Things that have been kept from you for your own safety and the safety of others. Now the time has come to give you the whole story, so that we can work towards the future."

"Is this to do with learning the ways of the Force?" Luke asked, and Leia nodded in approval of the question.

"That's a part of it, yes."

Leith cleared his throat, looking a touch confused. "Uh, I don't think I'm Force-sensitive, Master Kenobi."

"No, I'm afraid you're not," Gregar told him. "But we need you here anyway. It will all make sense."

"Leia, Luke, Kira," Obi-Wan said, looking at them each in turn. "You are all strong with the Force. To some degree, you've all already started on the path to being Jedi. You've hopefully learned things from me that have already served you well. The galaxy is in a dark place. We need a new Jedi Order, and you three will be its foundation."

"Master Obi-Wan, I can't abandon my duties to the Alliance to become a Jedi," Leia said. "I have to take my father's place as a leader."

"The Alliance has plenty of good leaders, Leia," Sabé spoke up. "Bail knew that this was your path."

"This new group of Jedi will not be like the old one," Obi-Wan said. "The Code is outdated. If the Order had been more open to change, I do not believe it would have fallen so easily. You won't have to give up your position if you don't want to, Leia. I just ask that you make time for training as well."

Leia looked pacified, falling silent with a nod. Sabé wondered if she'd someday be as formidable as Palpatine. After all, he had combined politics and the Force to deadly effect.

"I'll train with you," Luke announced. "I want to be a Jedi, like my father."

Obi-Wan nodded, his face carefully blank.

"You already know my answer, Papa," said Kira. "Mama's already made sure that I'm a kickass warrior. It's time I learned as much from you."

Obi-Wan's lips twitched at her terminology, but he nodded. Leia smiled, and Luke and Leith sent Kira identical looks of impressed bewilderment. No doubt she would be asked to prove her claim when the meeting was over. They probably didn't know too many fourteen-year-old 'kickass warriors'.

"Good," Obi-Wan said. "Once we're all settled after the evacuation, we'll begin a schedule."

"We didn't just ask you here to talk about the Jedi, though," Gregar added. "We have to talk about your parents."

Kira and Leith exchanged an understandable look of confusion, as both knew exactly who their parents were, but Luke and Leia looked suddenly alert.

Sabé took a breath, pondering where to begin. "Luke, Leia…perhaps your Force abilities have already given you hints about this, but…you're siblings. Twins, in fact."

She paused to let the information sink in, and the two of them eyed each other curiously. Luke's expression was one of amazement, but Leia was frowning in a way that told Sabé she had a multitude of questions.

"Your father was the Jedi Anakin Skywalker," she went on. "Your mother was...Padmé Amidala." She hesitated over the name a little, shifting her gaze to Leith, whose head snapped sharply to his father.

"What?" Leith said in confusion.

The twins and Kira glanced at him.

"Padmé Amidala was _my_ mother."

Gregar elaborated. "Yes. I'm sorry I never told you, but…you have a half-brother and sister."

Both twins looked stunned by that, but Luke wore the beginnings of a smile. After believing he'd lost his whole family, Sabé imagined it was quite overwhelming for him.

"Anakin was my student," Obi-Wan explained. "For a long time he made me proud, and was a good friend. But in the old Jedi Order, it was forbidden for a Jedi to have attachments. Anakin went against this and married Padmé in secret, but the secrets eventually backfired."

"Padmé loved him," Sabé assured the twins. "She truly did, but she was never really _in_ love with him, and she believed the marriage to be a mistake. A misunderstanding had pushed her away from the man she'd loved before Anakin, but she'd never completely let him go."

Gregar shifted uncomfortably as the twins glanced his way.

"Palpatine, who was a Sith lord hiding in plain sight, manipulated Anakin," Obi-Wan said, taking up the narrative. "He fuelled every dark impulse, every strand of jealousy, until Anakin grew twisted with the Dark Side."

"But wait," Luke interrupted, looking horrified, "you told me that was what happened to…to…Vader."

"I did," Obi-Wan admitted. "It wasn't yet time for you to know the whole truth."

"Which is?" Leia demanded.

"When Anakin fell to the Dark Side, he cast aside the man he had been and took on the name Darth Vader."

"No," Luke breathed, shaking his head. "No, but he's…he's a monster."

"He _tortured_ me," Leia snapped.

"He has done unspeakable things in service to his Emperor," Obi-Wan conceded. "That cannot be denied. But before any of that, Anakin was a hero, responsible for saving countless lives during the Clone Wars."

"A good past doesn't negate what he's done since," Leia said fiercely. "I don't accept this. Bail Organa was my father, not…"

"Bail was your father in every way that mattered," Sabé reassured her. "But Anakin's blood runs in your veins, and your strength in the Force comes from him. To deny it is to deny a part of yourself."

"Then I don't want that part. I don't want training. How do you know that one of us won't go dark?"

Kira and Leith remained silent, watching her with wide eyes. Sabé was sympathetic to what she must be feeling, but she said nothing more.

Obi-Wan fixed Leia with a look of gentle understanding. "Because you're not your father. Your destiny can be of your own making."

"Finish the story," Luke said, when Leia did not respond.

Gregar stepped in. "When it became clear that Anakin was falling, I brought Padmé to Sabé and Obi-Wan for her protection. We fled Coruscant as the Jedi Temple burned and hid in the forests on Takodana. It was there that she eventually realised she was pregnant with you two."

"We knew Anakin could never learn of your existence," Obi-Wan continued. "So the decision was made to separate you for your own protection. I took Luke to Tatooine to his aunt and uncle, Sabé remained on Alderaan with Leia."

"Bail and Padmé were good friends," Sabé put in, meeting Leia's gaze. "She knew she could trust him with you."

"Where did she go?" Leia asked quietly.

"Back to Takodana," Gregar told her. "We couldn't let Vader find her either, although…eventually he did."

"So…Mom left both her children behind with other people?" Leith spoke up, frowning as he got his head around it all.

"She knew she had to, for their own good," Gregar said. "The knowledge that you were safe kept up her resolve," he added, looking at the twins. "She never stopped loving you. I know she'd be happy now to have the three of you together."

Leith looked to his half-siblings, sending them a tiny, tentative smile. Luke returned it, but Leia still seemed on edge.

Sabé took the opportunity to speak. "If there's anything you need to ask us, about your parents, about your pasts, just ask. There won't be any secrets between us anymore."

Leith took half a step towards the twins. "Mom died when I was eight," he told them, "but there's a lot I remember from growing up. If you want, I can tell you about her."

Leia appeared to be struggling with her emotions, but she nodded, smiling at the peace offering with a little effort. "I'd like that."

"Me too," Luke said with a nod.

"We'll leave you to it," Sabé said, heading for the door. Obi-Wan and Gregar followed her. Kira glanced over her shoulder at the others before doing likewise, and they left Padmé's children to bond.

"I'd better report for duty," Gregar said once the door closed behind them.

Sabé sensed he wanted some time to consider how the conversation had gone, so she nodded. "All right. We'll see you later."

As the three Kenobis walked leisurely down the corridor, Kira frowned at her parents. "I never knew you were carrying so many secrets."

Sabé gave a quiet, ironic laugh. "There was a time when my life was full of them. I was in the middle of a huge secret when I met your father."

"Which I promptly saw through," Obi-Wan felt obliged to point out.

"Hey," she protested. "My portrayal had you fooled for a good day and a half, Padawan Kenobi."

"Your portrayal was perfect," he complimented.

"If it had been perfect, why did you see through it?" Sabé countered playfully.

There was complete sincerity in his reply, however. "I suppose because I can only ever see you."

"Get a room," Kira huffed under her breath, but she was amused. After living through so many years of her parents being apart, Sabé knew she liked to see them together.

Sabé considered enthusiastically agreeing with her idea, but she didn't want to traumatise her daughter any more than was strictly necessary.

"Actually, I have a question," Kira went on.

"Oh?"

"If the old Jedi Order forbade attachments, how did you end up married?"

Sabé blinked at her. "Have I really never told you this story?"

Kira shook her head.

"Hmm. Well, as I mentioned, we met during the occupation of Naboo, while I was decoy queen. That was when we became friends." Sabé couldn't help smiling as she recalled it all. "But it all _really_ started when my parents sprung an arranged marriage on me…"

* * *

The following day saw a memorial service for the pilots they'd lost, as well as Alderaan, Rogue One and the personnel from the battle of Scarif. Afterwards there was a medal ceremony to reward those who had helped defeat the Death Star. The ceremony ended with Luke, Han, Leith and Chewie, as the four who had beaten Vader and his wingmen.

Leia, dressed in the one formal gown she'd allowed Sabé to pack in her emergency wardrobe, smiled warmly as she placed the medals around their necks. She was still disturbed by what she'd heard of her true parentage, but talking it over with her new-found siblings seemed to have helped a lot. The three were making small steps towards feeling more like a family.

After the ceremony, work began in earnest on the evacuation. It took days to organise the fleet, the personnel, and what equipment they could take or leave behind, but eventually, the Massassi Temple was emptied.

A few more reunions took place. A fixed Artoo-Deetoo was returned to them after being severely damaged in the battle against the Death Star, which seemed to please Sabé, Luke and Leia. Obi-Wan was surprised to be approached by Commander – once Captain – Rex, whose familiar face was almost completely hidden underneath his snow-white beard. Unlike the vast majority of the other clone troopers, Rex had never turned against the Jedi, and Obi-Wan found himself genuinely pleased to see him. Rex reported that Ahsoka Tano, Anakin's former Padawan, had also joined the rebellion, but hadn't been seen in some time. Still, the old soldier seemed confident that she would re-emerge when the time was right for her.

The rebel fleet split into three smaller groups, flying separate routes to a temporary home on the mineral planet of Crait. There was an abandoned base there that Bail Organa had used a few years before, but it had been designed for a single rebel cell rather than the entire Alliance. As such, they had to set up a campsite outside the main base for some of the troops.

Dodonna sent out scouts to other systems, searching for a more suitable planet. Asher volunteered for one such mission, setting out for other corners of the Outer Rim. Obi-Wan couldn't blame him for wanting to get away. Crait was a desolate world, inhabited only by a few species of wildlife. But the vast salt flats gave him plenty of space to start teaching his students. Luke and Kira soaked up everything he had to teach, but Leia often had duties that kept her busy.

Leia had come to accept that her biological father had been a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker, but she refused to reconcile Anakin with Vader, and she certainly didn't share her knowledge with anyone else. Obi-Wan could see the wisdom in her silence, as there would be those who would question her position in the Alliance if they knew the truth, regardless of who had actually raised her. Luke seemed to be more accepting of the situation, but he didn't say anything either.

It felt very strange to Obi-Wan to be picking and choosing what to teach them. Part of him felt like a fraud, and he often had to quash tendrils of self-doubt. He selected what seemed right, what his instincts pointed him to, and took occasional pieces of advice from Qui-Gon. Often he thought of Yoda on Dagobah, and debated whether he should take his students there. But Leia would never agree to go, and he felt very strongly that she and Luke needed to remain united.

When they were not learning with him, Sabé taught them some of her Order of Sanctuary combat techniques. Leith joined for those sessions, which gave him something else in which to bond further with his siblings. Unsurprisingly, Kira was the best student, despite being the youngest in age. Leia was also more than proficient, but her lessons with Sabé on Alderaan had mostly been focused on defence. Obi-Wan knew Sabé was regretting the loss of her sword, which had been on Alderaan, but she seemed content teaching melee tactics.

Dodonna often looked in on what they were doing, and eventually requested that Sabé take some time to teach others. She was surprised, but agreed, and before long Obi-Wan's small class had company out on the salt flats, although they made sure to stay out of each other's way.

Not long after they had settled on Crait, he was approached by a Twi'lek pilot, who held a young child whose hair was the same vibrant green as her skin. She introduced herself as Hera Syndulla, and proceeded to tell him about the Jedi who'd fathered her son. Obi-Wan was interested to hear about Kanan Jarrus, and his apprentice, Ezra Bridger, the same two Force users that Leia had met several years before. Kanan had fallen before his son's birth, ensuring that his loved ones escaped the Empire, but Ezra was missing, presumed either dead or on some sort of Force quest.

Hera approved of his miniature Jedi academy, but admitted that she'd mostly approached him because, like Kanan, he'd found a way to balance love and duty. He and Sabé had been completely open about their relationship for the first time ever, and nobody, not even those who had known the old Jedi Order, had said a word against them. Hera was relieved to hear that he'd be passing his realisations on to his students, and he promised to update her if he learned anything about Ezra in his meditations.

He felt true peace in those days, such as he'd known only a few times in his life. Vader was a constant looming shadow, but despite that he felt at one with the Force. Beyond that, he had Sabé and Kira with him, something he'd often dreamed about in exile on Tatooine. He'd wished for it desperately, but had never expected it, and he couldn't feel more grateful that the Force had seen fit to gift it to him. He knew what it all meant, though. He was on borrowed time until Luke and Leia had learned enough to progress without him. He would have to live under Vader's shadow for the rest of his life, and he knew that that would not be long at all.

* * *

 **A/N:** Foreshadowing!

I know having Sabé's nephew pop up randomly seems...well, random. But I wanted to have some closure on what happened to her family back on Naboo, and this seemed the most logical way.

Also the final part of my faceclaim post is going up over on the sobi_fans Tumblr. Go check it out if you're curious!


	42. Assault on Hoth

**Chapter Forty-Two – Assault on Hoth.**

During the Alliance's stay on Crait, Sabé had been interested to note that Han and Chewbacca stuck around. The Corellian smuggler lost some of his materialistic reputation when Sabé learned that he'd wanted his reward to pay off a price on his head. The fact that he then gave the money back to the rebellion and chose not to leave raised her opinion of him, and seemed to endear him to Luke and some of the pilots.

Most interestingly of all, it caused Leia to soften towards him a little. Sabé had been surprised to learn – after accidentally overhearing – that Han was the one Leia chose to talk to about her newly-acquired family knowledge. Sabé supposed she wanted to find someone who hadn't been there in the room, but still Han seemed like an unusual choice. It pushed them towards a tentative friendship, although they still argued often, (and loudly), about a wide range of topics.

Those who Sabé couldn't help inwardly referring to as 'the kids', (namely Luke, Leia, Leith and Kira), interacted often during various training exercises, and friendships sprung up there too. Luke and Leith already had a bond as fellow pilots, and the fact that they were half-brothers just served to strengthen it. Leia found time for both of them, but she was naturally closer with Luke, and it warmed Sabé's heart to see the twins not only together again, but growing close as true siblings.

Kira sometimes seemed to feel left out, as the youngest, and as someone who wasn't blood family, but she didn't let it bother her. Leia was still her friend, and she'd bonded a little with the boys. When she sensed they didn't need her, she often sought out her cousin Corin, chattering away about the family on Naboo. Sabé overheard her telling him stories of Jago and Luma's reaction to her controversial marriage choices. They seemed to amuse him, so she didn't much mind being the butt of her daughter's anecdotes.

They remained on Crait for several months while the rebel scouts searched for more suitable locations. During that time, Sabé saw a huge leap forward in the abilities and confidence of her students, and she found it immensely satisfying to be making a difference. Obi-Wan felt the same way, and Sabé could plainly see the changes in his Jedi charges. Luke's self-assurance rose so high that he was given a rank amongst the troops. Han, too, was awarded this honour, although he commanded missions reluctantly.

The time on Crait gave Sabé the life she'd wanted with Obi-Wan for so long. Although it had come a little later in her life than she'd initially hoped, it was still everything she'd desired. She woke up each morning thankful to have the man she loved by her side, and her daughter in the next room.

She was grateful, too, for the chance to rekindle her friendship with Gregar after nine years apart. He was much the same as he'd ever been, but some of his spark had diminished with Padmé's death, and Sabé suspected it was gone forever. Time had eased the wound, however, and they spoke of her often, laughing over shared memories. The kids occasionally came to them for stories about her, Kira too, and they were more than happy to share as much as they could recall. Luke was fascinated about Padmé's time as queen, but Leia was more interested in her senatorial life. Leith was happy to hear anything he hadn't already heard from Gregar over the years.

Sabé was glad, and knew Gregar was too, that Leith had never raised concerns over being a replacement child for Padmé after the twins had been separated. It was testament to the way Padmé and Gregar had raised him that the thought didn't seem to have even crossed his mind.

After Sabé had told them to come to her with any questions they might have, the twins had sought her out to hear what had happened between Anakin, Padmé and Gregar. She'd told them the truth, as diplomatically as she could. She'd also stressed her certainty that had Anakin steered clear of the darkness, he would have been thrilled to have them. That had been purely speculation on her part, but she didn't think she was wrong. She'd seen Anakin in his mentor role to Ahsoka Tano, and he'd been good at it.

Although the destruction of the Death Star had struck a huge blow to the Empire, rebel scouts reported that Emperor Palpatine had amassed a vast fleet above Coruscant. It was no doubt a show of strength, but at least they no longer had the power to blow up entire planets.

Over the course of three years, the Alliance moved from temporary base to temporary base, spending a number of months at each. Each was remote, but liveable in its way. Then rebel command announced that they were relocating to the ice planet of Hoth, and work began on acquiring suitable gear that would allow them to survive in the planet's freezing temperatures. Several supply runs went out to various places, returning with as many pieces of insulating clothing as they could get their hands on.

They had a month to prepare while construction workers went on ahead to build a suitable base. When Sabé heard that the place was carved into the side of a glacier, she began to reconcile herself to being permanently cold.

The planet was the most desolate place she'd ever seen. Endless rolls of snowy hills, broken up by the occasional chunk of black rock. It wasn't like the snow in the mountains of Naboo, which came with the seasons and made the landscape sparkly white and picturesque. It was relentlessly frigid and harsh, and un-survivable after nightfall, even in thermal gear.

Due to the base's very nature, constructed of carved tunnels through the ice, it was barely heated, and only the fact that the blast doors shielded it from the outside temperatures made it liveable. The rebels got used to functioning in multiple layers, although heated blankets at least meant that they didn't have to sleep bundled up.

Obi-Wan's Jedi students had made great leaps, although they were not ready to face Vader or Palpatine. They still had no lightsabers of their own. Luke opted to keep using Anakin's saber, which didn't surprise Sabé, and Kira got on well borrowing Obi-Wan's, no doubt _because_ it was his. Leia spent most of her time as a rebel leader, as she'd predicted, but she'd learned a little of lightsaber combat, preferring to use Qui-Gon's, which Obi-Wan had brought with him from Tatooine.

It had been a concern of both Sabé and Obi-Wan that becoming Jedi would isolate the three from their peers, as no one had seen a powerful Force user other than Vader in two decades. (Palpatine, it seemed, preferred to keep his abilities hidden, as he'd done as chancellor.) Although that seemed likely to happen at first, it didn't keep Leith away. As he was well-liked by his fellow pilots, the rest soon followed suit, realising that gaining new powers didn't make Luke, Leia or Kira any less themselves.

The three of them constantly thought like Jedi now, even Leia. Obi-Wan had told them about the old Code, and about his new way of thinking. As such, none of them felt cut off from their loved ones, and Obi-Wan had been gratified to see that the connections made them shine brighter in the Force. In light of it, he made sure to teach them how to let go, speaking at length about the living Force, and how everything was part of it. They would be sure of being reunited with their loved ones. _There is no death, there is the Force._

Sabé felt comforted by the notion, and it wasn't far from what she'd been taught of the gods and the afterlife as a child. Most religions seemed to include the same elements, representations of the Force under different names. The fact that Obi-Wan was able to speak to Qui-Gon, who had been dead for thirty-six years, only seemed to prove his way of thinking correct.

Sabé knew he was considering taking his students to Yoda, or even bringing Yoda to the rebels. They would benefit from an additional teacher, preferably away from the distractions of the rebellion, although he knew he'd have a hard time persuading any of them to leave now. All three of them were fully integrated into the Alliance. Even Kira, who at seventeen was one of the top choices for scout missions thanks to her unofficial Order of Sanctuary training.

Although Echo Base had become their home, Sabé missed open spaces. It was too hostile outside to do anything but endurance training, and the icy tunnels of the base got claustrophobic. What didn't help was the near-constant bickering between Leia and Han, which had increased by degrees ever since they'd come back from a mission together. Sitting with Kira and Gregar in the cafeteria, Sabé witnessed a rather caustic exchange of comments which ended with Han storming out. Most of the other inhabitants had also vacated the room moments before. Face livid, Leia seemed to remember that she was a Jedi student, closing her eyes briefly and regaining a measure of control before walking out the door on the opposite side.

"They really need to hook up before they kill each other," Kira observed sagely.

"Kira!" Sabé exclaimed, scandalised.

"What?" she replied in wide-eyed innocence. "Oh come on, I know you're old, Mama, but…"

"Hey, that's enough of that," Sabé interrupted. "I may be 'old'," she said, making the quote marks with her fingers, "but I know what hooking up is, and I want to know why you're familiar with the term."

"No you don't," Gregar said with the voice of experience. "Trust me."

"You don't need to have done something to know what it is," Kira argued, the tips of her ears turning a little pink.

Slightly mollified, Sabé sat back in her chair, trying to remember how old she'd been when she'd crossed that rite of passage into adulthood. Gregar sent her a meaningful smile, knowing what she was thinking.

"Anyway, I'm right," Kira said, warming her fingers on her cup of tea.

"I would have to agree," Gregar weighed in with a shrug.

"See?" Kira turned to Sabé with a serene smile. "Uncle Gregar knows it. Everyone on this base probably knows it."

"Whether or not that's true, it's their business," Sabé said firmly. "And I don't think it's as simple as you make it out to be."

Gregar nodded, looking thoughtful. "You think there are real feelings there?"

"I think there might be, only they're both too stubborn to act on them. Who does that remind you of?"

Gregar shrugged off her teasing good-naturedly.

"Ugh, but it's driving us all mad," Kira complained. "And I _know_ it's getting to the higher-ups too, only they're too aware of Leia's rank to say anything."

"Perks of being royalty," Gregar quipped.

Leith entered the cafeteria at a jog, spotting them and making a detour to their table.

"Leia's in a ranty mood," he reported in a rush. "Luke managed to escape her, but now she's coming back this way. Want to come and hide?"

"Gods, yes," Kira said, hurriedly getting to her feet and following him out the room.

Gregar blinked a few times, then met Sabé's gaze. "Are our rebel operative children genuinely afraid of one princess's temper?" he speculated.

"I would have to conclude that…yes, they are."

"Huh," he said contemplatively. "In that case, I'd better get back on duty before she comes back."

* * *

They'd been on Hoth for just over a month when everything changed again.

The place was hardly ideal for meditation, but Obi-Wan kept up his routine anyway, constantly seeking guidance in his role as a teacher. Somehow, despite his long periods of stillness, he always maintained his body temperature, something that Sabé had given up trying to understand.

It was late when she returned to their quarters, and she was surprised to find him still cross-legged on the floor. Usually his sessions only lasted an hour or so. Sensing her presence, his eyes opened and he got to his feet. Sabé turned to greet him, on the cusp of asking him about his day, as she always did, but she halted when she saw his face. He'd had a vision, he knew what was coming, and in seeing the sad-yet-resigned lines of his face, so did she.

She wanted to protest, to scream at the unfairness of destiny, but she'd made him a promise. So she said nothing, holding his gaze and fighting her sorrow.

He placed warm palms either side of her face. "Sabé," he murmured. "Sabé. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," she said, hearing her voice crack. "You warned me…"

"You must promise me," he went on. "Get Luke, Leia and Kira to Dagobah. Master Yoda must teach them now. They have to finish their training, especially the twins."

A trickle of tears made its way down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with his thumbs.

"I promise," she said, pulling him towards her and kissing him gently.

Reaching up to take his hand, she led him towards the bed. They made love slowly, tenderly, taking their time because it was the last time. Afterwards they held each other close, barely sleeping, barely speaking, just looking into each other's faces and remembering their life. A life lived more apart than together, but they treasured the time they'd had regardless.

In the morning, Sabé gathered every scrap of control that she'd ever learned and tried to prepare herself to face what was coming.

In light of Obi-Wan's vision, it did not surprise her when the Imperial probe droid found them, although she hadn't known exactly what to expect. Han and Chewbacca shot it, causing it to self-destruct, but they had to make the assumption that it had transmitted their location to the Empire. Once again, they were facing a rapid full-scale evacuation. It was a far worse situation than Sabé had imagined. It was one thing to know that something was coming for Obi-Wan, but quite another to have everyone else face it too.

The Imperials were on them in a matter of hours, setting up a blockade around the planet and sending huge walkers to carry ground troops across the frozen plains. Sabé stayed close to Obi-Wan as much as possible, managing to keep Kira with her too. Kira hadn't had the same vision, but her senses told her something was up, and she remained close to her parents without being told.

Obi-Wan gathered his students together, passing on the same instruction he'd given Sabé and telling them to make their way to Dagobah after the evacuation. He gave his reasons as 'in case we get separated', but all three looked sceptical. They parted ways then, as Luke was flying with Leith and the other pilots to take on the walkers, Leia was needed at the command centre, and Kira was determined to stick by her parents.

Sabé got to work helping to move crates of equipment, trying not to think too hard. She passed Gregar in a corridor and caught his sleeve.

"Stay close, okay?" she told him quietly.

He took in her expression with a frown. "Why, what's up?"

She shook her head, unwilling to elaborate. "Just…stay close."

He nodded, clearly worried, but joined her and the others in packing. The ground trembled and rocked as the battle outside wore on, and the base began to echo with the evacuation orders. The ion cannon would fire at the blockade to cover each ship's escape, which was a much slower means of retreat than anyone felt happy with.

"I have to make sure Leia is leaving," Sabé said, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze. "You know she'll just stay in the command centre otherwise. You should all go with the others.

The transport they'd been helping to load was boarding, but she turned away from it. Unsurprisingly, none of them did as she suggested.

"We'll all go," Obi-Wan said.

The four of them hurried down the corridors, which were starting to crumble with the force of the blasts from the walkers. As Sabé had predicted, Leia was still in the command centre, and Han was there trying to persuade her to leave.

"You said you were going to go, so go!" she was yelling. "You've got your clearance!"

"I _am_ going, I just think you should leave too," he snapped back. "The base is coming down, sweetheart, this is no time for pointless heroics!"

"Don't call me sweetheart!"

"Your Highness," spoke up General Rieekan, "he's right, you should go. We need to give the final evacuation code signal."

Leia hesitated, and another blast sent chunks of ceiling tumbling down. "Do it," she ordered. "And get to your ships."

She and Han joined them as the group headed for the hangar, and they ducked further debris as they went. The hangar had emptied significantly when they got there, and Leia bolted for a small shuttle.

Sabé was unsurprised when Han yelled after her. "Where are you going?"

"Luke and I have somewhere to be," she hollered back. "Just get your unreliable rust-bucket out of here!"

Han grumbled, but stomped towards the _Millennium Falcon_ where Chewie, Artoo and Threepio were anxiously waiting.

"Kira, Obi-Wan, are you coming?" Leia called from the ramp of her ship.

Kira hesitated, strands of hair from her braid flying into her face as the _Falcon_ soared above them and out of the blast doors. She looked back at her father. As one, Sabé saw identical looks of dread pass over the faces of her husband, daughter, and Leia, and she knew they'd sensed an oncoming presence.

"You should go," Obi-Wan said, his voice calm but authoritative. "Now."

Kira was starting to put the pieces together, and she adamantly shook her head. "Not without you!"

There was no time to argue with her, so he looked to Leia. "Find Luke and go! We'll catch you up."

Leia didn't look as if she believed him, but she too was aware that time was of the essence. She held her master's gaze for a split second before disappearing. Her ship took off with the ramp still down, and she headed out to find her brother.

"Gregar, power up the ship," Sabé ordered.

He nodded, running for the one remaining vehicle, a small freighter barely half the size of the _Falcon_.

"Kira…" She tried to tell her daughter to leave, but the words stuck in her throat.

Kira looked between them, unwilling to accept what was happening. Obi-Wan drew the three of them together in a quick but heartfelt embrace.

"I love you," he said hurriedly. "Both of you. Now go. Go!"

Sabé took her daughter's hand, and they ran for the ship, halting at the bottom of the ramp. She turned just in time to see Vader sweep into the hangar, his cape billowing behind him dramatically. His lightsaber was already ignited. Obi-Wan brought his own up to meet him. They clashed blades without a single exchanged word.

"Hold on!" came Gregar's voice over the com.

Sabé and Kira each clung to a strut as the ship took off, flying a mere few feet above the ground as it headed slowly towards the blast doors. He was holding steady for Obi-Wan to leap aboard, and Sabé didn't have the heart to order him to go. Despite everything that Obi-Wan had said, everything he was convinced would happen, she still held on to a tiny fragment of hope that it would be otherwise.

But the Force had never lied.

The fight was faster, more brutal than the one they'd engaged in on the Death Star, and it was over quickly. Obi-Wan let himself be cut down knowing that Luke and Leia were away, knowing that his family would soon be hard on their heels, knowing that his hope for the future of the Jedi remained out of Vader's grasp.

Sabé cried out as Vader's ruby blade passed through Obi-Wan's neck. His worn Jedi robe sagged to the ground, empty, his body already faded into the Force. His lightsaber fell on top of it.

"No!" Kira screamed, and Sabé shot out a hand to grab her arm, afraid that she would go running to avenge her father.

Vader looked up from where his fallen enemy had vanished, and Sabé felt the weight of his eyeless gaze. Kira flung out her hand, her face taut with determination. Obi-Wan's lightsaber shot off his discarded robe, flying across the hangar and into her palm. Sabé tugged her away from the ramp, smacking the panel and yelling for Gregar to get going. The ramp closed just as he picked up speed, and he fired the thrusters to keep the Imperials back. By the time they would have recovered from the surge of heat, their ship was well away.

Kira crouched on the floor, curled around the lightsaber in her hand. She was almost vibrating with the effort of controlling her emotions. Sabé watched her, sitting back against the bulkhead, feeling the queasy stabs of her own grief. She wanted desperately to intervene, but knew it was something her daughter had to deal with on her own.

After long moments, Kira unfurled herself, turning her tear-streaked face to Sabé. There was a wealth of sorrow in her clear blue eyes, but calmness too. She was hurting, but she'd be okay. Her training had ensured it. For a moment, Sabé felt jealous that she was cut off from the Force, and could never know the sense of harmony that Kira and Obi-Wan had.

"I…I can feel his presence, Mama," Kira said cautiously, as if she was unsure how Sabé would react. Sabé could sympathise. She didn't know either. "It's…it's peaceful."

Sabé nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her throat was aching from her attempts to hold back sobs, although the tears seemed to be unstoppable.

"Mama, I…I need to meditate," Kira said, her voice shaking. "But I don't want to leave you alone."

Sabé knew well how healing meditation could be, especially for a Jedi. She forced herself to smile at her, although it must have looked horrific.

"I won't be alone. It's all right, my darling."

Kira nodded, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze before shuffling herself backwards. She set Obi-Wan's lightsaber on the floor in front of her, crossed her legs and closed her eyes. Sabé could see she was still shaking.

With tremendous effort, she hauled herself to her feet, feeling her grief like a tangible weight on her shoulders, burrowing deep into her ribs. She found her way to the cockpit, and Gregar turned to look at her. After barely a glimpse at her face, he was on his feet, drawing her into a hug. Sabé broke down, clinging to him with all her strength as she wept.

Gregar hung on tight, as she'd done for him when Padmé had died. "It's okay," he soothed her. "It will be okay."

Logically she knew he spoke the truth, but it seemed like the most impossible thing in the galaxy. There was nothing to do but let time heal.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm sure a lot of you saw this coming! But at least they had three extra years together. One more chapter to go, then the epilogue.


	43. End of an Era

**Chapter Forty-Three – End of an Era.**

It took several days for their ship to reach the rendezvous point and join up with the fleet, and when it did, Sabé had to report the loss of Obi-Wan, and explain to the higher-ups where Luke and Leia had gone. She had considered not going back to the fleet, but rather following the twins to Dagobah. Kira was doing well, but Sabé was torn between not wanting her daughter to take on additional training so soon, and the knowledge that Yoda's guidance could be beneficial to her grieving process. In the end, though, she opted to keep Kira nearby where she could keep an eye on her. There would be plenty of time to take her to Yoda later.

The journey gave Sabé an opportunity to get her head sorted. It didn't seem to matter how well-prepared she had been, how many promises she'd made to Obi-Wan, the grief still felt like a raw, open wound in her chest. She got by as best she could for Kira's sake, but she'd had three years with Obi-Wan by her side every day, and it was difficult to go back to a life without him, especially knowing that this time he would never be coming back. She was grateful to have Gregar there, not just because he was her closest friend, but because he'd been there before and knew what she was going through.

Meeting up with the fleet gave them a chance to dock with a bigger ship, where Gregar was gratefully reunited with Leith. Sabé was able to get news of the others, which told her that Corin, Asher, and Rex were also safe, but Han and Chewie had failed to turn up. That wasn't surprising in itself, as Han had been threatening to leave and settle his debts for weeks, but he'd unexpectedly taken Artoo and Threepio with him. The two droids had been useful around the base, and Sabé heard more than one person grumbling about the apparent theft. If Han ever did return, he would have some explaining to do. Sabé doubted he would keep away, not if his unresolved connection to Leia was anything to go by.

Several weeks later, however, the _Millennium Falcon_ turned up at one of the rendezvous points without its pilot. Instead, Leia emerged with a wounded Luke, Chewie, the droids, and a stranger named Lando Calrissian.

Luke was taken straight to the medical bay, and Leia sent Chewie and Threepio to report what had happened to the higher ups so that she could talk to Sabé and Kira. Gregar and Leith sat in too, and Leith hugged his half-sister tightly before letting her speak. Leia sent him a fond smile and started her story. She already knew about Obi-Wan's death, as he had appeared to them as a vision on Dagobah. Sabé wasn't sure what to make of that, as she didn't believe in ghosts as a rule. That Obi-Wan would find a way to communicate with his students beyond death didn't surprise her, though. The Force had a strange way of getting things done.

Leia told them how she and Luke had trained hard with Yoda, learning much on the isolated planet, including some educational brushes with the Dark Side that had left her unsettled. Then, while meditating, they'd had a shared vision of Han and Chewie in trouble. Against Yoda's advice, the twins had set off to rescue them. Their journey had taken them to the gas giant Bespin, where Lando, an old friend of Han's, ran a mining operation from a floating metropolis called Cloud City. The twins had split up, Leia going after Han, Luke facing Darth Vader to cover their escape.

Plainly disturbed, Leia relayed everything she'd learned from Luke, telling them that Vader had known who he was. Apparently Luke's strength in the Force had been obvious from their encounter above the Death Star, and Vader had come to realise that they were father and son. As far as Leia was aware, her own identity remained safe. Luke fought Vader, but lost his hand and his lightsaber in the process. Vader tried to persuade Luke to join him, but Luke vehemently refused, choosing to fall to his potential death rather than turn. Fortunately he'd been able to escape, but Leia had had to rescue him later.

While that was going on, Leia had found Chewie, but not Han. Han had been frozen in carbonite and shipped off to someone he owed money to. Lando had betrayed his friend, but had then realised that he had the option to fight back, and he had eventually chosen to do the right thing. He'd sided with Leia and Chewie, helping them make their escape.

Although Leia knew she would have to return to Dagobah, Sabé could see that she intended to do no such thing until she'd found and rescued Han. Her depth of feeling for the smuggler-turned-rebel was clearly much stronger than she'd realised, and she was regretting the way things had been between them when they parted.

When Luke recovered, having been fitted with a robotic hand, he pledged to help her too, as did Lando, most likely out of guilt. Chewie's involvement wasn't even in question, and Leith and Kira also spoke up, keen to offer their help to their half-siblings and fellow Jedi respectively. Sabé knew Kira also wanted to hear what they'd learned from Yoda, in the hope that she could pick it up too. Kira wasn't resentful of being left out, but she was an eager student, keen to learn more.

It took them almost a year to track down which of Han's former associates had him, but they soon discovered it was a Hutt on Tatooine. The younger ones formed and executed a plan, playing the long game and sneaking a few people into the Hutt's palace as personnel. While on Tatooine, they visited Obi-Wan's old home, where Luke found components to construct a new lightsaber in replacement of the one he'd lost on Cloud City. Sabé remembered Obi-Wan telling her of a vision he had, where their granddaughter had wielded the blade. She couldn't see how that could come to pass now, but she knew not to underestimate the Force. It would find a way.

She and Gregar undertook other missions while their kids were working on their own. Sabé wanted to keep busy, enjoying the opportunity to use her skills, and she and Gregar had always functioned well as a team. When they returned from a supply run to where the fleet was hiding out above Sullust, it was to find that Leia's squad had returned safely, with Han in their midst.

In recent months, rebel spies had discovered that the Empire was building a second Death Star, larger in scale than the first. It was still incomplete, which gave them an opportunity they couldn't squander. If it was finished before they could attack, they likely wouldn't be able to destroy it. The Empire would ensure that the fault they'd exploited the first time was well and truly fixed. In light of that, the entirety of the rebel forces were gathering for the first time since Hoth.

While they were waiting for everyone to arrive, Luke, Leia and Kira took the opportunity to go back to Dagobah. Sabé knew they had to go, but striking against another Death Star seemed like something they would need their Jedi for, and it felt strange to let them fly off elsewhere. She needn't have worried, though, as they returned a mere week later, with news that a frail, sick Yoda had joined the Force. Kira told her that she and the twins required no more training, that there was no one to do it in any case. They would learn from experience now, each following their own path to create a new breed of Jedi. Sabé could already see how each of them would branch out. Leia would always be a politician first, regardless of how much she learned, and she would use the Force as her ally in her chosen arena. Kira was knitting her parents' skills together in becoming an Order of Sanctuary warrior with Force abilities, making her a much more formidable agent than Sabé had ever been. Luke was following a more traditional path, his quieter ways lending themselves to a Jedi of the old Republic, although his fierce love and loyalty to his friends and family marked him out as something new. They would all do Obi-Wan proud, Sabé was sure of it.

Another sombre note to accompany the news of Yoda's passing was Kira's report that Luke and Leia were expected to bring down Darth Vader. Each twin had a different opinion of that. Leia, although much more controlled than she had been at twenty, still struggled with her feelings of resentment. She believed the galaxy would be safer with the threat of Vader eliminated. Luke, on the other hand, had started to admit that he sensed there was still some good within him, and wanted to try turning him away from the darkness. Sabé admired his sentiment, as it spoke to his nature, but she wondered if such a thing was possible when Anakin had spent half his life as Darth Vader.

When the entire rebel fleet had amassed, the top-ranking officers and several handpicked soldiers gathered on board one of the Mon Calamari cruisers for a meeting. This included Leia by default, simply because of who she was, Han and Lando, who had both been promoted to the rank of General, Chewie, who always accompanied Han, Luke and Kira due to their status as Jedi, Gregar as Commander Typho, Leith as Lieutenant, Corin as a Captain, plus Rex and a lot of other officers that Sabé knew by sight. She herself held no rank as an Order of Sanctuary member, but she was always invited to most important meetings. She wasn't sure if that was for her own sake, her connection to Leia, or because she was technically a Kenobi.

Mon Mothma, who Sabé hadn't seen since before the battle of Scarif, was present to lead the meeting, which indicated in itself how important it was. A hologram sprung up from the centre of the table, displaying the scale of the second Death Star in relation to Endor, the small moon it was orbiting. In order to keep it protected while it was under construction, the Empire had built an energy shield that was generated from Endor. If the rebels had any hope of destroying it, they had to take out the shield first.

For the first time in years, Palpatine had left his fortress on Coruscant and was on board the new station, giving them a rare opportunity to strike. The Empire would be an intimidating enemy without him, but with him it was all but unstoppable.

Lando had been selected to lead the aerial assault on the station, having proved himself in a previous battle while Han had been in captivity. Sabé had gotten to know him a little bit, and she knew the younger ones trusted him. Since Leith, Corin and Asher would be flying under his command, she was grateful to know that. Unlike the run on the first Death Star, the second one's weapons weren't yet operational, something else that would allow her to breathe a touch easier.

Han would be leading a strike team to Endor to disable the shield. The team was present, kept in order by Rex, but Han was lacking in command crew. Before long he was inundated with volunteers as Chewie, Leia, Luke, Sabé, Gregar and Kira put themselves forward.

Mon Mothma and her flanking officers looked rather taken aback, but since none the volunteers except Luke were pilots, they would have been little help during the battle if they were left on the ship.

"It's been a long time since we could say we had Jedi on the ground," Mon Mothma commented wistfully.

Luke sent her a significant look. "Things are changing," he said.

* * *

Dodging blaster fire, Sabé ran and took shelter behind a tree. Looking sideways, she saw Kira doing the same, her face determined as she wielded her father's lightsaber. Sabé briefly wondered if _she_ looked like that in the middle of battle. Kira had recently turned eighteen, and looking at her was almost like looking at a holo-portrait of herself at that age. Kira had her father's nose, though, and her eyes were all Kenobi. Coupled with Sabé's pale skin, high cheekbones and dark brunette hair, her daughter had grown into quite the beauty. Clad in the same neutral colours as the rest of the Endor strike team, Kira wore her hair in a long braid, same as Sabé, and she bore a shallow cut on her forehead.

What should have been a simple small-scale attack on the shield generator had grown much more complicated when the Empire sprung a trap, revealing a full battalion of troops and several two-legged walkers. Fortunately, in the time they'd been on the moon's surface, they'd made friends with the locals, a race of short, furry creatures called Ewoks. For all their cute appearance, the Ewoks were surprisingly savage in battle, and Sabé was grateful that they were on the same side.

Shortly after reaching Endor in their stolen Imperial shuttle, Luke and Leia had sensed Vader on a nearby ship. Since the clearance code the rebel spies had acquired had checked out, allowing them to land, they had assumed that all was well. Then Luke had sensed Vader's presence on the surface, and had known it was a summons. He and Leia had gone to meet him willingly, prepared to face their destiny.

Kira remained behind with the rest of the team, fully aware of her role, regardless of any personal vendetta she may have had against Vader. Sabé wouldn't have blamed her if she bore a grudge. The man was responsible for taking Obi-Wan away from them, after all, not to mention Padmé and the countless others.

She didn't have the luxury of worrying about the twins, however. She and Kira were pinned down by stormtroopers, biding their time until an opportunity presented itself. It came when a group of Ewoks jumped up from a nearby ridge, pelting the white-armoured figures with rocks. Sabé left her cover, firing her blaster while Kira reflected bolts with her lightsaber. It was such a familiar pattern that Sabé almost indulged in a sad little smile. It had been a year since she'd lost Obi-Wan. She'd adapted, she was even content, but it still felt strange, as if she was missing a limb.

Taking down stormtroopers as they went, Sabé and Kira vaulted a fallen log and almost landed on top of Han and Rex. The shield bunker was ahead, unguarded thanks to their attack, but there was heavy fire between them and it. Its security doors were firmly closed.

"We need Artoo," Sabé yelled over the noise.

"Typho went to cover him," Han told her.

Sabé glanced at her chrono. The fleet would be dropping out of hyperspace at any moment. They needed to hurry. Gregar, Artoo and Threepio emerged from the bushes at their side.

"Go," Gregar barked. "Rex and I will cover you from here."

Han nodded. "Stay here, Goldenrod, unless you can use a blaster."

"It would be against my programming," Threepio said, affronted.

Artoo rolled for the bunker as fast as he was able over the forest terrain. Han and Sabé followed, covering him with blaster fire, and Kira moved at his side, deflecting bolts. She stood unruffled in the line of fire while the others took shelter. Sabé couldn't quite quash her maternal instinct to cringe, and instead tried to focus on her respect, warrior to warrior. She crouched behind the doorway's outer strut, firing her blaster, reducing the number of stormtroopers shooting at her daughter. An unlikely shot struck her in the shoulder, and she swore.

"Mama?" Kira called urgently, although she never lost her focus or took her eyes from her enemies.

"I'm fine," Sabé said through clenched teeth, switching her blaster to her left hand. She'd been trained to fight with both, although she'd always struggled with her left.

Relaxing a touch at her words, Kira quipped, "I didn't know you knew that word."

"Side-effect of living with your grandmother," Sabé returned, wincing as her arm protested her movements. Her shot accuracy had dropped considerably.

"Get back, Sabé, you can't fire like that," Han said.

Reluctantly, she withdrew behind the bulkhead, knowing he was right. It was sobering to note how her skills had slowed as she'd grown older, but at least she was still able to make a difference.

Kira was then the one to swear as an Imperial walker stomped through the trees, halting in front of the bunker. She backed up a little, and Sabé glanced up at her face, alarmed by the calculating expression on it.

"Don't even think of trying take that thing down by yourself!" Sabé exclaimed.

"I can do it!"

The argument abruptly stopped as the walker's top hatch opened, revealing Chewbacca.

"Chewie!" Han greeted, laughing.

The Wookiee growled a proud-sounding reply.

"How you doing with those doors, Artoo?" Sabé asked the droid by her side.

He whistled in annoyance, moving his top dome like a head shake. Sabé exchanged a glance with Han.

"We could set the charges on the outside?" he speculated, although he sounded unsure.

"I'd rather be sure that we took out the generator," Sabé replied. "And we should take prisoners where we can. The bunker's full of officers."

He nodded in agreement, and looked back at Chewie. "I got an idea!"

Using the walker's com and its unique signal code, Rex mustered all of his Clone Army authority and impersonated an Imperial officer, reporting that the battle was won. Before long, the bunker doors opened as the higher-ranking officers came out to survey their victory. Han, Gregar and Kira crept around behind them, and the rest of the strike team emerged from the undergrowth to hold them all at blasterpoint.

Sabé and Gregar helped usher their prisoners back into the forest, where the Ewoks were happy to provide plenty of ropes. Han, Chewie and Kira headed into the bunker to set the explosive charges. Sabé found it impossible to tie a knot with her injured arm, and she stepped back to let the others secure the prisoners. Some of the officers looked almost amused at the primitive technology, but soon lost their smugness when they realised the ropes were securely fastened. Rex went around removing the stormtroopers' helmets, revealing a group of sweaty human faces. The Empire had been almost obscenely pro-human, although Sabé supposed that that had indirectly helped the rebel cause. The stormtroopers seemed less smug than the officers, and Sabé reminded herself that they were just foot soldiers, probably afraid of Palpatine's power.

Behind her, the bunker exploded, making everyone stumble. The barely-visible substance of the deflector shield winked out of existence, and she smiled. Above them, the rebel ships would be starting their attack run. She sent up a little prayer for Leith, Corin and Asher.

Kira appeared, pushing through ferns with a smile on her face. "Now we wait," she announced.

"That's always the worst part," Sabé commented.

Some of the Imperials had seen Kira during the battle, and they eyed her – and the lightsaber on her belt – with caution. They'd all seen Darth Vader, they knew what a lightsaber user was capable of.

"Can you walk a patrol around the prisoners?" Sabé asked her quietly.

Kira frowned in confusion, then glanced at the guarded faces nearby and made the connection. "It's not the Jedi way to sow fear," she said.

"Not fear, just healthy wariness. We don't want any trouble before the ships get down here."

Kira sighed but nodded. "Okay. But in return, you need to get that arm seen to."

"I will."

Kira set off on a slow walk, and Sabé sought out Gregar.

"Do you have a medkit?" she asked him, grimacing. Now that she had decided to take care of the wound, it had really started to hurt.

"Are you doubting my ability to always be prepared?" he retorted.

"I would never."

He laughed. "Take off your shirt."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Sabé teased him, shrugging out of her beige shirt and shifting the strap of the tank top she wore underneath out of the way. The blaster wound was blackened and ugly, but not serious. It appeared to have grazed the top of her shoulder rather than penetrated through it. She shifted her grey-streaked braid over the other shoulder. They sat on a nearby log and Gregar cleaned the wound with well-practiced hands before placing a bacta patch on it and wrapping it tightly in a bandage.

"That's the best I can do. It needs proper attention," he said firmly.

"Thanks."

Since there was nothing else to do but wait, they remained there in companionable silence, eyes trained nervously on the sky. In the bright daylight, it was difficult to see the outline of the Death Star. They could hardly miss when it exploded.

Cheers went up from the rebels, collective gasps from their prisoners. Sabé turned to Gregar, who looked relieved but still tense, and she knew he would remain so until they knew that Leith was safe.

"I hope the twins got off that thing," he muttered.

Sabé glanced over her shoulder. "Kira looks calm. I'm sure she'd sense if something happened."

"Yeah."

"Han looks worried," Sabé observed.

"Good." At Sabé's amused sidelong glance, Gregar elaborated. "Well, he and Leia spend so much time bickering, it's nice when one of them shows that they really care about the other."

"I suppose."

After some long-winded coordination, the majority of the Alliance's members made it down to Endor for a well-deserved celebration with their Ewok allies. The pilots all swarmed around Lando, who had flown the _Millennium Falcon_ and taken the shot that had set off the Death Star's main reactor. Asher and Corin were both safe, and they each gave Sabé a wave when she spotted them. Leith came over to hug his father, and Sabé was glad to see him unharmed.

Luke and Leia arrived on an Imperial shuttle, closely accompanied by a rebel pilot called Shara Bey, who ensured that they made it without being mistakenly shot down. Kira, Leith and Han ran to meet them at the clearing they set down in, Sabé and Gregar following at a more sedate pace. The twins were sombre but smiling tiredly, neither seriously hurt, although there was a stiffness to their movements that made Sabé suspect they were in some sort of pain.

Luke told them all that he and Leia had handed themselves over to Vader, managing to take him by surprise with the reveal of Leia's identity. The news of a second child had shocked him, but not enough to stop him from taking them before the Emperor. Palpatine had wasted no time in trying to turn them to the Dark Side as he'd done with Anakin so long ago. Leia's past associations with Palpatine in the Senate had done her no favours, as he knew exactly how to exploit her weaknesses, taunting her about the destruction of Alderaan and the loss of her parents. Despite the progress she had made in moving on, it had gotten to her enough to break her control. She had briefly given in to her anger and had fought Darth Vader, which had prompted Luke to join as back-up, but at the point of striking the killing blow, both had hesitated. The twins had tossed their sabers aside, united in their refusal to fight any further. Palpatine, lacking in patience, had attacked them with Force lightning, but Vader had stopped him, throwing him down a reactor shaft and fatally wounding himself in the process. At the end, as Luke had believed, Anakin Skywalker had returned to save his children.

They'd had a snatched moment to talk before Anakin succumbed to his injuries, and the fallen Jedi had offered them a sincere apology, as well as one to Obi-Wan's daughter. Kira took the information in with a frown, but she was composed. Sabé wasn't quite sure if she'd forgiven, but she seemed willing to let things lie. Luke and Leia had brought Anakin's body down to Endor for burial, and the group helped them lift the heavy, armour-clad figure from the ship.

Sabé found it surreal to see him suddenly still and lifeless after so many years of living in fear of discovery. He'd threatened her, had killed her fellow handmaidens, had scared and then killed Padmé, had taken Obi-Wan away from her, yet she felt numb. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel. She was glad for Luke's sake that Anakin had found some form of redemption at the end, but Sabé felt – and she suspected Leia did too – that it was too little, too late. He'd avoided retribution in death. The true redemption would have come in living to face the mistakes he'd made. But it was all over now, and she kept her thoughts to herself, barring a few glances to Leia and Gregar, where she saw her own expressions mirrored. They helped Luke build a funeral pyre, and when dusk fell, they lit it and stood with him as he paid his respects to his father.

Sabé wondered how Anakin would have reacted had he known that Gregar would be at his funeral, accompanied by a son who had so much Padmé in him. It was pointless to speculate, however, and she let it all go, letting her thoughts and opinions of Anakin Skywalker drift up with the smoke and vanish.

Kira stepped up to her side and slipped her arm through Sabé's. When Sabé glanced at her, she saw a bittersweet smile on her daughter's face.

"I feel Papa's presence," she explained quietly, reading the question in Sabé's expression.

"I'm not surprised," Sabé replied, managing a smile. It was a strange feeling, hearing that his spirit was close by without being able to sense anything herself. She tried to stop herself wishing there was a way, knowing it was a fruitless desire. She was grateful if it brought Kira comfort. And if Obi-Wan was right, as it seemed he was, they would be together again one day.

When the pyre had burned low, they returned to the party, which was in full swing. Leia and Han peeled away to have a quiet moment, and when Sabé spotted them again, they were close together, swaying to the music the Ewoks were playing. Luke, Leith and Kira were huddled close in conversation, although their expressions indicated that it was a light topic.

Gregar smiled at Sabé, following her gaze. "Guess our kids ended up friends after all."

"How could they not, with us as such shining examples?"

He laughed, and they took a seat on a log on the outskirts of the clearing. Sabé watched the younger generation celebrating, trying not to feel old as she did so.

"The end of Palpatine," Gregar stated in a tone of disbelief. "Did you ever imagine we'd see that?"

"No, not really," she replied truthfully. "It seemed as if his power would be forever. Now he's gone, it shouldn't be as hard to take down the remaining loyal factions. Other leaders will step up, but…I can't imagine any of them being as bad. Maybe that's naïve, but…" She trailed off, shrugging.

"I don't think that's naïve. There are very few people I think really deserve the word 'evil', but he was one. And fortunately, that's still rare."

"Thank the gods."

"You're right though," Gregar went on, "the galaxy will still need the Alliance for a while. After that…we'll be free to do whatever we want. Gods know, our kids don't need us anymore."

Sabé smiled. "What _will_ you do? Retire?"

"I'm not sure I could. Don't think I'm the retiring type."

"Nor me. I'd die of boredom."

They laughed, watching the happy, relieved faces of the rebels. Asher was chatting with Lando, elaborate hand gestures occurring as they dissected the events of the battle. Chewie was chattering away to the Ewoks, seeming to have developed a kinship despite the language barrier. Sabé spotted Rex talking with Hera Syndulla. Over near the musicians, Corin was dancing with a mechanic Sabé only knew as Gavin, both of them smiling, their heads close together.

As she sat there, Sabé felt something creep over her, like the gentlest of warm breezes. For a moment she held perfectly still, unwilling to let it go. The warmth was soothing, and oh so familiar. She closed her eyes, relishing it, and then it was gone. Despite the ache of the loss, she smiled. He was still near. She would live out the rest of her days knowing he was there, waiting for her. It comforted her, and she was glad he was present in some capacity to see an end of the evil they'd fought against for so long. She may not have had Force abilities like Kira, but she was certain that the strong bond between herself and Obi-Wan had been what had allowed her to sense him, even if only for a moment. Theirs had been a true partnership, even if it hadn't started in the most traditional way.

Reflective, she let out a soft laugh, and Gregar turned to her.

"What?"

"I was just thinking…I never thanked my parents."

Gregar looked understandably surprised by the subject change. "For what?"

"Well, if they hadn't been…any less themselves, they would never have tried to force me into marrying Daedrin. I would never have turned to Obi-Wan for help, and we would never have had the chance to explore what was between us." She shook her head in mild disbelief at what she was saying. "If they hadn't done the worst possible thing they've ever done to me, I wouldn't have done the best possible thing that _I've_ ever done."

He chuckled. "That's one way to look at it, I guess. And I don't think you and Obi-Wan would have made a move otherwise, you were both too noble."

"Probably true," she admitted. "We bent the rules once, then spent the rest of the time we lived together pretending it hadn't happened and hadn't had consequences." She shook her head, remembering. "Sometimes it feels like we wasted that time, but I don't think we did. We learned and grew during it."

But Gregar was fixated on the first part of her speech. "Back up, you bent the rules?" Realisation struck and he sent her a disbelieving grin. "You didn't lie about consummating the marriage! How did I not know about that?"

"Because Padmé was really good at keeping her mouth shut, I suppose," Sabé said with a laugh.

"Gods. I had no idea you two could be such rule-breakers. Respect."

"Oh, shut up."

He laughed, gently bumping her good shoulder with his. "Padmé kept your secrets just as well as you kept hers," he remarked, gaze lifting to the fireworks that had started to spangle the stars with colour.

"We'll see them again, Gregar," Sabé assured him. "I believe that."

He nodded. "I believe it too."

* * *

 **A/N:** Epilogue to follow. Possibly mid-week if I get around to it, we'll see.


	44. Epilogue

**A/N:** So mid-week upload plan fell through, and this epilogue probably isn't worth waiting a week for, but...hey ho! Sorry! Enjoy the wrapping up of loose ends!

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Four – Epilogue.**

"Oof, Ben! You're getting too old to climb on me."

Sabé smiled, watching Leia swing her five-year-old son down from where he was trying to ascend a pile of crates, using her back as a ladder. Despite Leia's maternal authority, Ben didn't seem at all deterred, giggling and escaping her grasp to try again.

Ben had been born just under a year after the destruction of the second Death Star. He had inherited Leia's dark eyes and hair, and her Force sensitivity, but he was starting to look like Han as he got older.

Sabé and Gregar had met up with Leia and Leith in the hangar of the Senate Complex on Hosnian Prime, where Leia served as a senator once more. After her lapse in control in facing Vader and Palpatine, Leia had been hesitant to use her Jedi abilities, not wanting to be tempted down the same path that Anakin had taken. It had made her cautious with Ben too, unsure if she wanted him to be trained the way Obi-Wan and Yoda would probably have wanted. As the boy grew older, however, it was seeming more and more likely that she'd have no choice. He was shaping up to be as powerful as his grandfather.

Although Leia never forgot the more spiritual side of her training, she preferred the work she could do in politics to following a dedicated Jedi path. Along with other Alliance and planetary leaders, she had spent the six years since Palpatine's fall forming the New Republic.

By contrast, Sabé had found it impossible to go back to being a senatorial aide, and she and Gregar had pooled their resources and bought a ship, starting a new path as respectable bounty hunters. Despite being one year off sixty, Sabé found she was still capable of hauling in her targets, and Gregar was still one of the best soldiers she'd ever served with, if a little less mobile than he had been in his youth.

Leith swooped in to run after Ben, grabbing him by the arms and lifting him up so his little legs kicked. "Not so fast!"

Leia smiled at her half-brother. "Thanks. He's a handful!"

Leith had settled on Hosnian Prime too, working as a flight instructor for the pilot academy that Wedge ran. He'd been more than happy to accompany Leia to see his father, even if he'd been roped into uncle duty.

"Where's Han?" Gregar asked.

Leia shrugged. "Off on some excursion with Chewie. He should be back in a few hours."

They'd all gathered in the hangar to meet Kira, who was due back from a six-month trip to Luke's Jedi academy, where she'd been staying as a guest tutor. That was the official story, at least. Sabé had also heard the gossip versions, which speculated on Kira and Luke's friendship in a way that made her feel strangely nostalgic about the days the HoloNet would spout stories about Padmé.

She'd heard nothing to indicate that there was something between them, and she trusted that Kira would tell her when – if – there was something to tell. Not that she would mind if it was true. Luke was a fine young man, steadily growing in confidence as he settled into his role as a Master.

When she was not helping Luke teach his students, Kira worked as an agent for Leia, dealing with trouble from Empire sympathisers, or taking care of anything else that Leia didn't have time to personally deal with. It meant that Sabé didn't see her often, although they kept in touch over the com. She was looking forward to actually seeing her daughter in person, assessing with her own eyes that Kira was well.

Leith hoisted Ben up on his back, trotting around like a tauntaun while Ben shrieked with laughter. Gregar chuckled, but looked a little wistful. Sabé wondered if he wanted a grandchild. She hadn't heard any gossip about Leith, but then he wasn't a semi-famous Jedi knight.

"You're getting heavy, buddy," Leith complained, crouching to let Ben hop off.

"He's going to tower over me by the age of ten, I'm sure of it," Leia said, making them laugh.

A one-person ship swept into the hangar, making a smooth landing in a free bay. The canopy opened and Kira tugged off her helmet, blowing strands of hair out of her face. The group moved over to greet her, but Leith was ahead.

"Hello, stranger," he said smiling.

Kira vaulted down from the cockpit, not bothering to wait for a ladder. She grinned, and they collided in a hug.

"Six months is a _really_ long time," he added into her shoulder.

"I know, I'm sorry." Pulling back, she sent him a little apologetic look before clutching his jacket lapels and kissing him.

Sabé raised her eyebrows, glancing at Gregar. "Did you know about this?"

"I did not," he responded, sounding equally stunned.

Sabé smiled, wrapping her mind around the idea. Leith was wonderful, and a credit to Gregar and Padmé. If Kira was happy, she was happy.

"Huh," Leia said quietly beside them. "I owe Han twenty credits."

* * *

Sabé became a grandmother at the age of sixty-four. Already enraptured, she gazed down at the bundle in her arms, all scrunched pink skin and tufts of dark hair.

"Everything we've been through, Gregar," she said softly, unwilling to wake the new arrival, "did you ever imagine we'd share a grandchild?"

"No." He smiled, running a light finger over the downy head. "She's beautiful."

"She'll be a powerful Force wielder," Sabé said.

"How do you know?"

"Obi-Wan had a vision once, years ago before Kira was born."

"Do you think he's here now?" Gregar asked.

Sabé smiled. "I hope so."

Lying back against her pillows, Kira looked exhausted but content, clinging on to Leith's hand.

"He's here," she said with certainty.

Sabé's smile widened as a memory circled her. "You always did know that," she said. "I always had warning when he was coming to Alderaan."

"I did that on purpose," Kira said deadpan. "So you'd always know when to look prettiest."

"Your father, thankfully, never cared whether or not I looked pretty."

Gregar snorted. "That's not true. I caught him admiring you more than once when you weren't looking. Even before you two finally admitted how you felt about each other."

"Well you could have told me," Sabé said in mock exasperation. "Would have saved me a lot of angst."

The baby shifted in her arms, little mouth opening and closing. Sabé handed her back to Kira.

"I think she's hungry."

Kira accepted the bundle, discreetly shifting her medical gown while Gregar politely looked away.

"What's her name anyway?" Sabé asked.

Kira and Leith smiled at each other. "Rey," said Leith with a proud beam.

"Welcome to the family, Rey," Sabé said warmly.

* * *

It was a strange sensation. Panic and grim acceptance, blinding light, a rush of intense heat, then nothing but cool nothingness. Sabé floated, trying to make sense of it. Then the feeling of warm hands on her shoulders, arms slipping around her until she was pressed against a chest, feeling fabric against her cheek.

"It's all right. I've got you."

That voice. So wonderfully familiar, absent from her life for _so_ long.

"Obi-Wan," she said, realising then that she could speak. "You were right."

"It has been known," he said, the dry, amused tone that she'd missed so much.

Sabé pulled back from him, looking up into his face, seeing it unlined, his hair the sandy-red she remembered from long ago. He smiled at her, and she knew that she'd have been sobbing if she was still in her body. As it was, she felt too peaceful to cry.

"You're young," she pointed out in wonder, reaching up to run her fingers down his cheek.

"So are you."

Sabé tore her gaze from his face, glancing at her hands, noting that they too were smooth, untouched by age. It was a strange experience, as she'd been in her sixties not five minutes before.

"The ship exploded?" she asked, struggling to remember.

"Yes," he said gently.

"So Gregar…"

"Yes," he said again. "He's at peace. Padmé is with him."

Sabé smiled a little at that. "Will I ever see them again?"

Obi-Wan nodded, his palm warm on her cheek. "If you want to."

She leaned into his touch. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, my love."

He kissed her, and her sense of peace shone brighter, making her feel complete in a way she hadn't in life for years. Still, an old ingrained instinct had her worrying that things would follow the pattern they always had.

"Obi-Wan," she said, drawing back to meet his clear, azure gaze. "Is this forever?"

"Yes," he answered her earnestly, "this time we have forever."

* * *

Years later, Leia stood and let the sting of her latest loss join the dull ache of all the others. She'd endured so many, she wasn't sure how she kept letting people in. But the new Resistance recruits kept coming, kept fighting, kept endearing themselves to her, and she never stopped caring about every single one of them. Occasionally there would be one that meant a little more, hence her soft spot for Shara and Kes's boy, Poe. But when she heard a name she'd never expected to hear again, her heart clenched with the old pain.

When the _Millennium Falcon_ touched down, she stepped forward, wordlessly wrapping Rey in a warm embrace. Leia hadn't seen her since she was very young, and she hugged her tight, trying to silently apologise for the years she'd spent alone on Jakku, wondering how she'd find the words to explain that Kira and Leith had done what they had to in order to protect her.

When the wrong people started to take an interest in the new offspring of one of the Rebellion's Jedi heroes, Sabé and Gregar had stepped up to track down the threat. They won a few years of peace for their family, but had lost their lives in the process. When their enemies surfaced again, Kira and Leith had fled for Rey's safety, hiding her on Jakku, fully intending to deal with the threat and come back for her. They'd been killed trying, before they could tell anyone where they had hidden her.

They hadn't died in vain though, Leia thought, drawing back to study the young woman, who had remained safe despite her tough upbringing. She saw Kira and Sabé in her face, Leith in her eyes, felt Obi-Wan's strength in her Force signature. The daughter of her friend and half-brother, the granddaughter of her Master and handmaiden, her step-father and her own mother. Leia made them all a silent promise. However many years she had left to live, she would watch out for Rey, and ensure that she never felt alone again.

Somewhere in the Force, a Jedi and a handmaiden smiled.

The End.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's it! We started this story with Leia, and we end with Leia. Seems fitting somehow. Apologies to the Reylo shippers, Rey and Kylo ended up cousins in this universe. I don't think that'll be the case in canon, though. We'll see come December :)

Those of you with good memories may have noticed that Kira and Leith's reunion was a throwback to Sabé and Gregar's from chapter four. Albeit a more romantic version.

Thank you to everyone who has read and favourited. Huge gratitude to those who left a review. Sadly review culture seems to be less of a thing these days, so I really appreciate everyone who made the effort to reach out. I think I may have at least one more Sobiwan one-shot left in me, so keep an eye out for that at some undefined period in the future!


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